First time
by Elza
Summary: -COMPLETE- A student falls in love with a teacher. Unfortunately, the teacher happens to be Severus Snape. Is there any chance the greasy git is actually capable of returning her love?
1. Arrival at Hogwarts

Author's note:

Greetings to all Potter fans!

This is my first attempt at a fic, and also my second attempt at writing anything in English, so please, be kind to me, English unfortunately isn't my first language. Still, there shouldn't be too many mistakes, but if you do happen to find one, I'd be more than happy if you told me – so I can avoid doing it again.

Now, as for the plot – I had it all planned out before reading the fifth book, so if you've read it already, please try and pretend that you haven't, otherwise the story won't make too much sense.

The first three chapters are just a boring introduction of characters and lessons (and I also had to use a couple of sentences from the first book – I hope it doesn't matter too much), so don't get put off and read on, it does get more interesting, but don't expect too much action (or cliffhangers); this fic is meant to be a slowly developing romance, based mainly on the thoughts of the main heroine and dialogues, which I tried to make as realistic as possible. As a matter of fact, my main goal was to keep Snape in character right until the end, so I'd love to know whether I did a good job of it. Which means that even though the fic is finished, I'm still craving for reviews, so please let me know what you thought of the story, OK?

Finally, here's the standard disclaimer: I don't own the characters (and unlike most people, I don't mind, because Snape isn't real ... but if he was, rest assured I'd do practically anything to get my hands on him), the settings etc. – all that belongs to the best writer in the world, J. K. Rowling. But I do own most of the plot and also Elizabeth, Jane, Joshua, Jamie, and a few others.

Well, enough of my blabbing, go on to read the story. And hopefully, enjoy!

Elza

Chapter 1

Arrival at Hogwarts

"Come on, Elizabeth, hurry up or you'll miss the train!" yelled a young woman with long blond hair, making her way through the crowd at King's Cross station.

Elizabeth, her daughter, was a small but pretty girl, with blue eyes and a boy's haircut. At that moment, she was desperately trying to keep up with her mother, a task made difficult by the fact that her mother wasn't pushing a heavy trolley loaded with luggage.

"Mum, wait up!" she wailed.

Her mother, however, didn't slow down. In fact, she did quite the opposite, which, until now, Elizabeth had thought was beyond the power of any human being, let alone an ordinary English mother. And she was just starting to think there was absolutely no chance of her making it to the platform alive, when her mother finally came to a standstill and turned to face her, looking as fresh as if she'd just come out of the shower. Elizabeth, on the other hand, was feeling like her lungs were about to explode, so she simply collapsed on the spot, hoping she'd never have to get up again.

But her mother thought otherwise. "Get up, Elizabeth!" she ordered. "Get up and tell me exactly how we're supposed to get to that platform of yours ... what was the number again?"

"Nine and three-quarters," Elizabeth answered wearily, but remained seated on the ground.

"Yes, that. What did grandmother say about it?"

"She said we should somehow walk through the solid barrier between platforms nine and ten to get there," Elizabeth said, rubbing her eyes.

"Well, what are we waiting for? Come on, move!"

Carefully, Elizabeth pulled herself to her feet, and searched the area for any sign of the magical barrier. Finally, she spotted it, and, fortunately, it was only a few metres away. Slowly, she pushed her trolley towards it, with her mother hot on her heels. But, unlike any other sane person, she didn't stop in front of the barrier. Instead, she continued straight into it, closing her eyes right before she met the solid wall. There was no collision, however, and when Elizabeth opened her eyes again, she found herself not at the modern platform she'd just left, but at a completely different one, which looked like it belonged to another century. The only similarity between the two was, that it, too, was crowded with people, hurrying in all directions.

When she finally took in everything that was there to be taken in, especially the red steam engine with _Hogwarts Express_ written on the front, Elizabeth turned her attention towards her mother, and had to stifle a laugh when she saw her gaping open-mouthed at the unusual sight before her.

"We're twenty minutes early," she announced, making her mother snap out of her trance.

"Yes, well, if you hadn't rushed so much..."

"What?" Elizabeth cried. "You were the one yelling something about missing the train all the time!"

"I know, I know, I was only joking," her mother said good-naturedly. "Anyway, you can be happy you're here so early, at least you can find a good spot for yourself."

Elizabeth had to admit her mother had a point there, so she quickly set off in search of an empty compartment. She found one almost immediately, and with her mother's help, she managed to get all of her luggage on the train and still have a few minutes left until its departure.

"Don't forget to send me owls – at least every week!" her mother called from the platform. "I want to know everything, about the classes, about the teachers, about the kids..."

"Okay, okay, I get what you mean," Elizabeth cut in impatiently, wishing to have the goodbyes behind her as quickly as possible. Because even though her mother could sometimes become very annoying, she still loved her, and was sure that if this farewell went on any longer, she'd get homesick before even leaving the station. Fortunately for her, though, at that moment, the train let out a loud whistle, and slowly began pulling out of the station. Elizabeth blew her mother an invisible kiss, before finally leaving her far behind, enveloped in a cloud of steam.

The train quickly started gathering up speed, and soon houses were replaced by fields and small clusters of trees. Elizabeth sat with her nose pressed against the window, and had just started speculating whether to take a nap or not, when a tall girl with long brown hair appeared at the door of the compartment.

"Hello. Mind if I sit down here?" she asked.

"Not at all, go ahead."

"My name's Jane Wells, by the way," said the girl as she stretched out her hand.

"And mine's Elizabeth Woodhouse." She shook the hand and asked: "Going to Hogwarts for the first time, I suppose?"

"That's right. I nearly missed the train, though, took me a while before I figured out how to get onto the platform. My parents weren't of any help, either, as they're both Muggles."

"So are mine. Luckily, my grandmother's a witch, so she told me all about the platform."

Both girls then fell into silence, each absorbed in her own thoughts. But they were soon disturbed by the sound of a trolley, and a few seconds later, a plump lady stuck her head through the door.

"Would you like some sweets, darlings?" she asked.

Elizabeth searched the trolley. She'd never seen or heard of any of the sweets there, so she just picked Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour Beans and hoped she'd made the right decision. As she saw, Jane also had a hard time making a choicel; in the end she went for the Chocolate Frogs.

After the lady had left, Elizabeth cautiously opened the Beans. She half-expected the box to blow up in her face or something, but nothing happened. So she picked a scarlet bean and put it in her mouth.

"Mmmm ... raspberry. You want some?" she asked Jane and held the box out to her.

"Thanks," said Jane as she took an orange bean and popped it in her mouth. But a few seconds later, she spat it back into her her hand. "Yuck! What is this? I thought it would be an orange-flavoured bean, and instead it tasted like ... egg yolk?" She looked at Elizabeth quizzically.

"Well, I suppose anything is possible with these," answered Elizabeth and looked inquiringly at the yellow bean she was about to put in her mouth. And sure enough – it turned out to taste like mustard. Which, actually, was a relief for her, as she'd expected something far worse.

"I think I'll try the Chocolate Frogs," said Jane. "I just hope they're really made out of chocolate. Coming across a poo-flavoured frog is an experience I'd gladly give a miss."

With that, she opened one of the little boxes containing the frogs. But as soon as she did, the frog suddenly came to life, glanced at Jane, took a giant leap, and before either of the girls could react, it was gone.

"I'll be more careful with the next one," muttered Jane, and she really did manage to catch the frog in time and put it in her mouth. "Mmmm ... delicious. I think that's the best chocolate I've ever eaten."

Meanwhile, Elizabeth had taken the empty box and now showed Jane the card she'd found inside.

Jane examined it. On one side of the card was a photo – but not an ordinary one. The man in the photo was moving, he even winked at Jane. And suddenly, he was gone.

"Hey, where'd he go?" asked Jane, puzzled. Getting no answer, she turned the card over and read out the name written there – _Godric Gryffindor_.

"I've read about him," said Elizabeth. "He's one of the four founders of Hogwarts. One of the houses is named after him. By the way, which house would you like to be in?"

"I don't know. Which ones are there? You see, I only got my books yesterday, so I didn't get a chance to find out much about Hogwarts yet ... or any of this wizarding stuff, anyway."

"Well, there's Gryffindor – that's for brave people, then there's Ravenclaw – you go there if you're clever, Hufflepuff – if you're loyal and ... Slytherin – that's where all the bad people go."

"Hmmm ... sounds like Ravenclaw for me. I've always been the smartest in my class at basic school."

"Yeah, me too. Maybe we'll be together. Anyway, I think we should change into our school robes. We should be arriving in a few minutes."

They did as Elizabeth had said, and a moment later, the train came to a halt. They got off and their attention was immediately attracted by a giant who was waving a lantern and shouting: "Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here!"

So the girls walked over to where the giant was standing and waited. Soon, a bunch of other kids joined them. Elizabeth noticed a thin boy with hair that looked like it hadn't been combed for ages and a scar on his forehead which was shaped like a bolt of lightning.

"Look over there!" she whispered to Jane. "That boy – it's Harry Potter!"

"Who's Harry Potter?" asked Jane.

"Oh, I keep forgetting you haven't read anything yet." She was going to tell Jane all about Harry, but just then, the giant yelled: "Follow me!" so she just muttered: "I'll tell you some other time," as she struggled to keep up with the giant's long strides.

A few minutes later, they reached a little harbour where a number of primitive-looking boats was tied. There was a lake stretching on as far as they could see.

"No more'n four to a boat!" called the giant as he climbed into one of the boats himself. Jane and Elizabeth shared a boat with two other girls.

As soon as all the kids found empty spots, the boats set off. A while later, a huge castle came into view, with countless towers and turrets, and situated on the top of a cliff.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," whispered Elizabeth.

"It's amazing," was everything Jane was capable of saying, she just gaped open-mouthed at the sight in front of her.

Finally, the boats landed, and the giant led all of them to a massive gate which immediately opened. They walked in and found themselves in a huge Entrance Hall. A witch, with black hair pulled back in a tight bun and wearing an emerald-green robe, stood there, obviously waiting for them.

"The firs'-years, Professor McGonagall," said the giant.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

Hagrid left and Professor McGonagall ushered them into a small, empty chamber.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she said as soon as they were all inside. She then told them about the four houses and that the Sorting Ceremony would begin soon. After that, she left.

All the students started talking excitedly and Elizabeth chose this moment to tell Jane about Harry. "You see, a couple of years ago, there was a wizard who went really bad. He killed everyone who got in his way. He killed Harry's parents, too. But when he tried to kill Harry, something happened ... and the spell turned against him. Harry survived – managing to get away with only the scar."

"Wow," was all Jane could say at first. Then she asked: "What was the wizard called, anyway?"

"Voldemort," answered Elizabeth, lowering her voice.

"Wow," said Jane again. "The name itself gives you the creeps, doesn't it?"

The girls were so absorbed in their conversation about Harry and Voldemort, that they didn't even notice the bunch of ghosts suddenly swooping into the room, scaring everyone out of their wits.


	2. The Sorting Ceremony

Chapter 2  
  
The Sorting Ceremony  
  
Professor McGonagall returned a few minutes later, and led the students through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall for the Sorting Ceremony. The rest of the students were already there, seated at the four house tables. In the front of the Hall was another table, where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall motioned for the students to stop a few feet away from the teachers' table, and then placed a high stool in front of them. On it, she laid a battered-looking pointed hat.  
  
Immediately, the hat began to sing. But Elizabeth wasn't listening - she seemed more interested in the teachers. She looked at every one of them thoughtfully, wondering what they were like and what they taught. Her gaze stopped on a man dressed all in black. His long, slightly greasy hair was also black, and so were his eyes. She was just wondering whether he taught Defence Against the Dark Arts when she realized the hat had stopped singing and that it was now Professor McGonagall who was talking.  
  
"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she was saying. "Abbott, Hannah!"  
  
Elizabeth watched the sorting with interest. She noticed the hat had taken quite a long time before finally placing Harry Potter in Gryffindor.  
  
When Jane's name was called, Elizabeth gave her a smile and a reassuring look. The hat only thought for a few seconds, and then placed Jane in Ravenclaw.  
  
Now it was Elizabeth's turn. Slowly, she made her way towards the stool, taking a deep breath before sitting down and putting the hat on. Suddenly, she was surrounded by blackness, and a tiny voice whispered in her ear: "Well, well, well, I wonder what is going on this year? You're even harder to place than that Potter boy ... in fact, I could put you in any of the four houses. You're certainly brave enough to be a Gryffindor, clever enough for a Ravenclaw, loyal enough to become a Hufflepuff, and even the Slytherins would nothing but gain if I sorted you into their house. Hmmm, I hate to admit it, but this is probably the first time in my career as a Sorting Hat that I could use some help. Is there any house you'd prefer to the rest?"  
  
"Ravenclaw?" Elizabeth tried to sound convincing, but failed.  
  
"You don't sound very sure," the hat remarked. "You can still change your mind, you know."  
  
"No, really, make it Ravenclaw," Elizabeth said, more decidedly this time.  
  
"O.K. then, as you wish... RAVENCLAW!"  
  
The Ravenclaw table erupted in cheers as the hat shouted the last word for everyone to hear. Elizabeth let out a sigh of relief and went to sit next to Jane.  
  
"I'm glad we're together," she told her.  
  
"Yeah, so am I," answered Jane, inspecting the empty golden plate that was in front of her.  
  
Just then, the last student was sorted, and Professor McGonagall took the hat and the stool away. Then the Headmaster, a very old wizard with long, silvery hair and beard, a crooked nose, and half-moon glasses, rose from his seat.  
  
"Grandmother said that Albus Dumbledore is the best Headmaster Hogwarts has ever had," whispered Elizabeth. "She used to be a teacher here, so I suppose she should know. Anyway..." She wanted to say more, but as Dumbledore was already speaking, she decided to tell Jane later.  
  
"Welcome!" he was saying. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"  
  
"I think I should learn not to take Grandma's opinion too seriously," Elizabeth managed to say before both she and Jane burst out laughing. When they'd finally stopped, they noticed that the table was now full of food ... and it all looked delicious.  
  
"I was going to go on a diet while here ... but guess I'll have to think again," wailed Jane, and stuffed her plate with a bit of everything.  
  
After dinner, the Headmaster had another little speech, mostly concerning the out-of-bounds areas - the third-floor corridor and the Forest in the school grounds. Then they all sang the school song - everyone at their own favourite tune. Elizabeth noticed that most teachers didn't quite enjoy this, especially the black-haired teacher's expression had become rather sour.  
  
After this, it was time to go to bed. Elizabeth and Jane were so tired, they could hardly keep their eyes open. So they just blindly followed the Ravenclaw Prefect, a girl called Penelope Clearwater, up the stairs, along the corridors and through secret passageways to the Ravenclaw common room. It was hidden behind the portrait of a slim lady in a beautiful purple dress.  
  
"Hello, Violet," said Penelope to the lady. Then she turned to the bunch of little Ravenclaws and called: "Everyone - pay attention! The password to get into the common room is - VIOLETS. Everyone got that?"  
  
As she said the password, the portrait swung open, revealing a hole. She climbed through it, followed by the other students. As soon as they were all inside, the portrait snapped back into place.  
  
"Welcome to the Ravenclaw common room!" announced Penelope with pride, making a dramatic pause.  
  
The room looked cozy and comfortable - there was a huge fireplace and a number of soft couches and armchairs.  
  
When she thought she'd achieved the desired effect, Penelope continued: "Boys! To find your dormitories, follow the stairs on the right. Girls - your dormitories are on the left. You'll find that your luggage's already been brought up."  
  
Elizabeth and Jane, along with the rest of the girls, obediently walked up the stairs on the left side. Their dormitory turned out to be a round room which Elizabeth and Jane shared with three other girls. Elizabeth wanted to at least find out what their names were, but she realized she was too tired to do anything except undress, so she decided to leave it until morning. She'd barely wished Jane good night when her eyes started closing, and seconds later, she was fast asleep. 


	3. Potions and other lessons

Chapter 3  
  
Potions and other lessons  
  
Their lessons started on the next day, right after breakfast (which Elizabeth and Jane had nearly missed because they got lost several times on their way to the Great Hall). They nearly came late to their first lesson (Charms), too, because they were unfortunate enough to run into Peeves. Peeves the poltergeist was a little man with beady dark eyes who was in the habit of playing the worst tricks he could think of on anyone unlucky enough to get in his way. Right now, he was blocking the staircase leading to the Charms classroom, and laughing madly. Fortunately, Professor McGonagall came by and chased Peeves away.  
  
Charms was taught by Professor Flitwick, a tiny wizard with a squeaky voice, who had to stand on a chair or a pile of books to be seen. He also turned out to be the Head of Ravenclaw, which made Elizabeth happy, as he left quite a good impression on her. On the other hand, she was disappointed to discover that they wouldn't be doing any magic yet, at least not until they had learnt how to flick their wands properly.  
  
Their next class was Transfiguration. They were with the Slytherins for this one, so Elizabeth made use of the opportunity and looked inquiringly at the Slytherin kids to see if they were really as bad as everyone had been saying. But they looked exactly like any other students ... with the exception of three boys. One had really light blond hair and was scowling constantly at every Ravenclaw who happened to look his way, the other two were tall, muscly boys, who just looked plain mean. Professor McGonagall started the class by taking the register, and so Elizabeth learned that the blond boy's name was Draco Malfoy, while the two muscly boys were called Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.  
  
Professor McGonagall turned out to be a strict, but fair teacher. As Elizabeth got most things right for the first time, she even got a rare smile from her once in a while. On the other hand, she didn't seem to like Draco very much, as he was always showing off and hardly paying any attention at all.  
  
After lunch, the Ravenclaws were to have a double lesson of Potions with the Hufflepuffs.  
  
"What's the teacher's name?" asked Jane as she and Elizabeth were making their way down to the dungeons to the Potions classroom.  
  
Elizabeth inspected her timetable. "Snape," she answered finally. "I wonder if it's a he or a she. Brrr, it's cold down here," she added and shivered. "This place gives me the creeps."  
  
Absorbed in their conversation, the two girls didn't notice they'd taken the wrong turn. When they'd finally realized their mistake, it was too late - despite doing everything they could, when they arrived at the classroom's door, the lesson had already begun. So they quietly opened the door and peered inside. The students were all there ... but the teacher was nowhere in sight.  
  
"If we just go and sit down quietly, maybe the teacher won't notice. Wherever he or she is, anyway," whispered Jane.  
  
Elizabeth nodded and they started for two empty seats near the front of the classroom. After what seemed like hours, they finally reached their destination, and both sat down with a sigh of relief.  
  
"Looks like we've made it," whispered Jane and Elizabeth was just about to agree when...  
  
"I believe you have both received timetables," said an icy voice right behind them, making them both jump. When they slowly turned around, they saw the black-haired teacher Elizabeth had noticed in the Great Hall - so this was Professor Snape. He was now looming over them, like a huge bat, a twisted smile was playing at the corner of his lips and his eyes were flashing nastily.  
  
"You are from Ravenclaw?" he asked, and although he'd made it sound more like a statement than a question, Elizabeth chose to answer anyway, just in case.  
  
"Y ... yes, sir," she choked out.  
  
"You were ten minutes late, so I think we'll make it ten points from Ravenclaw ... for each of you," he added in a silky voice, his twisted smile growing even wider.  
  
"B ... but we got lost, it's only our first d...," started Elizabeth but Snape interrupted her.  
  
"Silence! I'm not interested in your excuses. Now," he lowered his voice to almost a whisper, "as I was saying before our little interruption," and he glanced menacingly at the two girls, who both shrank under his gaze, "today we're going to make a very simple potion to cure boils. So get into pairs, all of you!"  
  
The class started shuffling around, while Elizabeth and Jane both stayed in their seats, too scared to move. Finally, everybody was settled, and Snape started explaining the procedure to make the potion. Elizabeth noticed a plump, clumsy-looking boy was now sitting next to her, probably from Hufflepuff, as she didn't recall seeing him in the Ravenclaw common room the night before. The boy saw Elizabeth looking at him and blushed slightly.  
  
"Sorry for not introducing myself," he said. "My name's Joshua Howard. And that's," and he pointed to a little boy sitting next to him, "Jamie Tweedle."  
  
"Pleased to meet you," whispered Elizabeth. "I'm Elizabeth Woodhouse. And that's my friend Jane Wells."  
  
"It seems like you know everything about the potion already, Miss Woodhouse," came a sudden voice from behind her, making her jump yet again. Elizabeth wheeled around and sure enough, there was Snape, his eyes glittering like stars in the midnight sky. "You certainly didn't seem to pay much attention to my explanation. Five points from Ravenclaw." And with that, he swept off to the front of the classroom again.  
  
Elizabeth began to wonder how come he knew her name, when she wasn't there at the beginning of the lesson when he took the register, and she had just decided it was nothing more than a lucky guess (it had to be either Woodhouse or Wells), when Snape told them to begin with their potions, so she didn't have time to ponder over it anymore.  
  
The potion really wasn't a hard one, at least that's what Elizabeth thought, but obviously there were people who didn't find it as easy. All of a sudden, there was a loud BANG!, and Joshua and Jamie's cauldron exploded.  
  
Snape was there in a flash.  
  
"Idiots!" he yelled. "I thought I'd made my explanation clear enough. That's twenty points from Hufflepuff and now get yourselves to the hospital wing!"  
  
The boys, both with little burns all over, quickly disappeared, and Snape turned his angry glare to Elizabeth.  
  
"Miss Woodhouse," he snarled. "Why didn't you keep an eye on them? Is it because they're from a different house than you? Well, now you've lost *your* house another five points. Was it worth it, I wonder?"  
  
Somehow, Elizabeth had the feeling that Snape'd have taken those points off her in either case - if she had helped the boys, he'd probably have told her to mind her own cauldron, insisting that the boys were perfectly capable of finishing the potion even without her assistance. But she thought it best to keep quiet.  
  
The lesson finished without any further incidents ... and without any more points being taken from either house.  
  
"I really think I'm not going to like Professor Snape - and that's putting it mildly," Jane told Elizabeth as they were walking to their next class - Defence Against the Dark Arts.  
  
"Well, I must admit he was rather unfair today, but I suppose that's just because he wants everything - and everyone - to be perfect, and when it isn't, he gets angry. You know what? I'll take it as a challenge - I'll try being perfect, so he won't have any reason to take any more points from me."  
  
"I think that's a waste of time. He'll just take points from you for no reason at all."  
  
Elizabeth flashed Jane a wicked grin. "We shall see."  
  
Jane didn't say anything and thus left Elizabeth to her own thoughts. She found herself thinking about Snape again. He actually reminded her of her math teacher at basic school, who was really mean and seemed to hate all the students - except Elizabeth. Because Elizabeth did so well in his class, he had actually begun to 'like' her - in his own way. Of course, he had never told her that, but Elizabeth was a sensitive child and as such could feel the slight difference in his behaviour towards her, compared to the way he treated the other students. Elizabeth knew that Snape would be a harder nut to crack, but she felt ready to face the challenge. In fact, she was looking forward to it.  
  
Defence Against the Dark Arts turned out to be a bit of a disappointment for Elizabeth. Their teacher, Professor Quirrell, was a young man who stuttered all the time (which made it even harder for her to pay attention, the lessons were already boring and far too easy as it were), and who seemed to be afraid even of his own shadow.  
  
'They couldn't have picked a better man to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts,' thought Elizabeth with a snicker.  
  
Professor Quirrell also wore a purple turban which he never took off, which, in the eyes of the students, made him even more of a comical figure than he already was.  
  
They had Defence Against the Dark Arts with the Gryffindors. Elizabeth was thankful at least for this, maybe she'd get a chance to talk to Harry sometime. Suddenly, a rather amuzing idea came to her mind - Harry'd be able to teach them more about the Dark Arts than that coward Quirrell ever could.  
  
***  
  
On the next day, the Ravenclaws were to have their first lesson of Flying. Elizabeth woke up a little ill-at-ease because she didn't quite know what to expect from this. She'd never been as good in P.E. as she was in her other classes (which was partly due to her height, she had always been the smallest in her class), but then, this would be nothing like the Muggle P.E. lessons. So she just pushed all the 'What if...' thoughts out of her mind and walked confidently out of the castle and into the open.  
  
When she reached the site where their Flying lessons were to take place, she immediately noticed about twenty broomsticks lying on the ground. She shuddered at the mere sight of them, but again told herself not to panic. There'd be plenty of time for that later.  
  
Their teacher wasn't there yet, but a familiar voice called out to her. She turned around to see Joshua approaching her, with Jamie close behind.  
  
"Oh, hi," she said reluctantly.  
  
After the incident in Potions, she had decided that it would be for the best if she tried to avoid these two boys as much as possible, but obviously the task wasn't going to be as easy as she had thought. So she gathered all her patience, put on a worried expression and asked if they were both O.K. already, considering the way they'd looked when leaving the Potions classroom the day before.  
  
"Oh, don't worry. We're both just fine," answered Joshua, beaming at her. "Madam Pomfrey had us both fixed up in no time."  
  
Just then, Jane, who'd enjoyed a little extra sleep, appeared at Elizabeth's side, followed by their teacher, Madam Hooch, thereby sparing Elizabeth of any further conversation with the two annoying Hufflepuffs.  
  
"All right now, be quiet, all of you!" Elizabeth started as Madam Hooch's sharp voice rang through the air. She had short grey hair, and eyes that somehow reminded Elizabeth of a bird's. "I don't want anyone mucking about in my lessons," she went on. "If you all do exactly as you're told, there should be no accidents. Now, everyone, find a broom, put your right hand over it and say UP!"  
  
The students did as they were told, and soon the air was filled with everyone yelling "UP!" like maniacs.  
  
Elizabeth only had to say it once because the broom immediately jumped into her outstretched hand. Jane took a bit longer, but eventually also managed to get the broom into her hand. When Elizabeth looked around, however, she saw that most brooms were still on the ground, some of them lying completely still, some of them rolling over, but making no attempt to rise into the outstretched hands above them. Some kids just gave up after a while and simply picked their brooms up.  
  
Madam Hooch then told them to mount their brooms, and after checking that everybody was sitting correctly, she asked them to try and rise a few feet above the ground, stay that way for a while, and then come back down.  
  
Again, Elizabeth was surprised at how easily she'd fullfilled the teacher's instructions. Most kids, though, couldn't get their broomsticks up into the air for the world, with Joshua and Jamie's broomsticks being particularly stubborn. When, after about twenty minutes of trying, they finally did manage to get their feet off the ground, their broomsticks decided to go crazy, and several seconds later, they were both lying on the ground, unconscious, after suffering a head-on collision with one another.  
  
Elizabeth was now certain more than ever that her decision to avoid the boys had been a good one, because going to the hospital wing twice in two days *was not* normal, not even at Hogwarts. She found herself wondering whether Madam Pomfrey would have the pleasure of seeing them there again tomorrow.  
  
The rest of the lesson passed uneventfully. Elizabeth had really started to enjoy flying by the end of it - finally, here was something where her height wasn't a handicap.  
  
After lunch, they had their first lesson of History of Magic - another one they shared with the Gryffindors. It was actually taught by a ghost, something that took quite a bit of time for the students to get used to. But apart from this, the lessons turned out to be the most boring of all. Professor Binns didn't seem to notice there were any students present, and so he just went on and on in his monotonous voice, until half of the class had drifted off to sleep. But not Elizabeth. History'd always been her favourite subject at school, and not even Professor Binns could make her like it less. But she noticed she wasn't the only one still taking down notes, the expression of the girl next to her was close to that of a maniac, when she frantically tried to record every single word Professor Binns had said. Elizabeth decided to have a little chat with her at the end of the lesson, so when the bell finally went off, she told Jane to wait for her, and then addressed the girl, who was now packing her bag.  
  
"Hi, I'm Elizabeth. I see you like history too."  
  
The girl looked up and gave Elizabeth a toothy smile. "Pleased to meet you. My name's Hermione Granger. Yes, I find history ever so interesting. Of course, I've already learnt all the books off by heart, and I even got some extra ones out of the library yesterday, but still, Professor Binns did say a few things I haven't read anywhere yet... Well, I'd really like to talk to you a bit more, but we'll have to make it some other time, there are still about three more books on Charms I'd like to read this afternoon, so I'd better be off. See ya!" And with that, she disappeared.  
  
Elizabeth stared after her in amazement. She suspected that Hermione had produced her little speech without even taking a breath. Until now, she had considered herself a square. But compared to Hermione Granger, she was just a normal kid who somehow managed to get better-than-average marks.  
  
***  
  
The week dragged on. As Elizabeth'd suspected, Joshua and Jamie really did manage to find themselves in the hospital wing at least once a day. She found it hard to believe that anybody could be so clumsy, although she'd heard rumours that a certain Neville Longbottom from Gryffindor wasn't far behind.  
  
Suddenly, it was Monday again, and with it came another double lesson of Potions. Elizabeth felt she was probably the only one actually looking forward to it, judging from the various remarks coming from students scattering down to the dungeons. Even Jane became visibly paler as they neared the classroom door. They were ten minutes early - something Elizabeth had seen to, as being late again surely wouldn't have helped the realization of her plan.  
  
When Snape had finally let them into the classroom, she immediately put part two of her plan into action - she carefully picked a seat for herself and Jane, making sure it was as far away from the two Hufflepuff boys as the size of the classroom would allow.  
  
As far as the rest of the lesson went, she just tried her hardest not to attract any unnecessary attention to herself. She most definitely did not make the mistake of waving her hand in the air at every possible opportunity (and with the frightening example of Hermione Granger on her mind at all times, there was nothing to stop both of her hands from resting safely on the top of her desk), as she was certain that Professor Snape wouldn't approve of this kind of behaviour. However, when asked a direct question, she immediately delivered the correct answer.  
  
The lesson was over before she'd realized it - and to her immense delight, Snape hadn't taken any points off her!  
  
"See, Jane, I told you Snape really isn't that bad - if you know how to handle him, that is," she said as they were heading to their next class.  
  
"I suppose you're right," admitted Jane. "But unfortunately, not everybody has the predespositions for Potions, some people are simply destined to lose points every lesson."  
  
"Yes, I really don't think there's anything that can help those two." (Joshua and Jamie had managed to make their cauldron explode once more).  
  
When they reached the classroom, Elizabeth deliberately took a seat next to Harry, hoping for an opportunity to finally talk to him. She didn't have to wait long, Quirrell's stuttering turned out to be as unimportant and boring as ever, and Harry soon stopped taking down any notes. So Elizabeth caught his attention by tapping him on the shoulder, and then whispered: "Hi, Harry, my name's Elizabeth. Sorry to interrupt, but I was just wondering, ummm ... could I ask you something?"  
  
"Yeah, sure," answered Harry, although looking a little suspicious.  
  
"It's just ... do you remember anything from the night when ... when you got that scar?"  
  
Harry shot his neighbour, a red-haired, freckled boy called Ron Weasley, a glance, as if to say 'Not again', so Elizabeth quickly added: "But if you don't want to talk about it..."  
  
"No, it's O.K.," Harry interrupted her. "It's just that I've been asked this question so many times ... and I really don't remember anything, except perhaps a green flash of light."  
  
"Oh." Elizabeth couldn't hide her disappointment. "So you don't know what happened to Voldemort after ... after he'd tried to kill you?"  
  
"No. Hagrid thinks he's out there somewhere, too weak to strike again. And ... wait a minute ... you've said his name! That's strange ... everybody I've met so far just call him You-Know-Who, or something like that, anyway. So how come you don't?"  
  
"Well, my parents are both Muggles, so they didn't tell me not to say his name, as they have no idea who he is. And the only witch in our family is my grandmother - but I didn't talk to her about Voldemort, I only asked her a few things about Hogwarts and how to get here. She's a bit deaf, you know, so I try to speak to her as little as possible ... for I really hate repeating myself all the time, just because she didn't hear me. Well, anyway, the point is, she didn't tell me it was wrong to say the name, either."  
  
"It's not wrong to say the name, it's just that most people are afraid to say it," said Harry, glancing in Ron's direction.  
  
"Well, I'm not," said Elizabeth firmly. "Why should I be afraid of a name?"  
  
"Exactly. Why should you? But say 'Voldemort' in front of Ron, or Hagrid, or anybody else, and they'll just yell at you to shut up."  
  
At that point, Quirrell finally got to the practical part of the lesson, so they cut their conversation short, both deciding they might just as well pay attention. 


	4. The escape

Chapter 4  
  
The escape  
  
"No, you're not going back to Hogwarts! You're staying right here, I've told you a hundred times already and this is the last time I'm going to say it."  
  
It was the second last day of the holidays before Elizabeth's fifth year at Hogwarts. A few days before, she had foolishly told her grandmother about Voldemort regaining most of his lost power at the end of the last school year - and now she was cursing herself for ever opening her mouth. For her grandmother, as was often the case, had twisted the facts into suiting her own purposes, and, as a result, had come up with a rather far-fetched story about Voldemort intending to attack Hogwarts in the nearest future. Unfortunately, this story had somehow managed to reach the ears of Elizabeth's mother, who had immediately decided to put an end to her daughter's further presence at the aforementioned institute. Elizabeth had tried everything to change her mother's mind, but nothing worked. Not even the fact that Elizabeth was to become the new Ravenclaw prefect this year.  
  
Now the girl was desperate and therefore attempted to talk to her mother about the matter one last time - but again with no result. She left the room on the verge of tears.  
  
***  
  
Lying on her bed some time later, she thought about her situation. It just wasn't fair! After all the work she'd put into her studies so far (especially in Potions, where she was probably the first student ever, other than a Slytherin, to whom Snape had actually awarded points - even if it was just one for her antidotes essay), she was to stop right there? On top of that, she was chosen to become the new Ravenclaw prefect - and how was she to deal with the problems of her fellow students when she couldn't even deal with her own?  
  
Desperately, she searched the room for something - anything - to help her decide what to do. Her gaze shifted from her barn owl, Wilma, which she'd got from her grandmother last Christmas, to the stack of books lying on the table, until it stopped on her Nimbus 2001 broomstick ... and suddenly she knew what she had to do. Smiling, she went to wish her parents good night, and a while later, she was sleeping peacefully, the smile still playing on her lips.  
  
***  
  
When she got up the next morning, it was still dark. After making sure that both of her parents were fast asleep, she quietly packed her books and a few articles of clothing, including her school robes, into a large backpack, all the while inwardly cursing the Ministry of Magic for not allowing underage students to do any magic at home, since exactly the opposite would've come in handy at the moment. Then, she opened the window, let Wilma out of her cage, and sent her off to Hogwarts where she was to wait with the school owls for the arrival of her owner. Finally, Elizabeth gathered up all the wizard money she'd managed to save up during her four years at Hogwarts, and then scribbled a short note to her parents, asking them to forgive her and to kindly send her some more money and the rest of her clothes. When she'd made sure she hadn't forgotten anything, she mounted her broomstick (only now realizing that this, too, was actually a kind of magic, but since there was no turning back now, she just had to hope the Ministry would let it slip - as long as she wasn't seen by any Muggles) and swiftly flew out of the window, into the chilly morning air.  
  
***  
  
At nine o'clock, she was already at Diagon Alley, desperately trying to get everything for the upcoming school year in the shortest time possible.  
  
"Hey, Elizabeth, wait up!" called a voice behind her, and when she turned around, she saw a smiling Jane, making her way through the crowd.  
  
"Looks like you've also left your shopping for the last moment," commented Jane when she'd finally reached her friend.  
  
"Well, actually, I didn't have a choice," said Elizabeth, and went on to tell Jane all about her troubles at home and the following escape.  
  
"Oh, you poor thing!" said Jane when Elizabeth had finished. "Lucky I didn't mention Voldemort in front of *my* parents. But, come to think of it, they probably wouldn't have known who I was talking about, anyway. Oh, and speaking of my parents - they're waiting in the car outside the Leaky Cauldron. I suppose you wouldn't mind a lift to the railway station, would you?"  
  
"That'd be great, thanks! But I'll have to make up an excuse about why I'm here alone. The last thing I want is your parents to start asking me questions..."  
  
The two girls then finished their shopping. Elizabeth wasn't left with too much money by the end of it, but hoped that her parents wouldn't let it stay that way for long - if she gave them a bit of time to recover from the initial shock, that is.  
  
They got to King's Cross at ten to eleven, and were just thanking Jane's parents for the lift, when Elizabeth saw something that made her heart stop. She frantically pulled at Jane's sleeve and whispered: "Jane! Over there - it's my parents! I think they've come looking for me ... and want to take me back home."  
  
"Oh, don't *panic*," said Jane irritably. "Just hide behind my trolley and we'll get to the barrier somehow."  
  
So Elizabeth did as she was told, and indeed managed to reach the barrier unnoticed. When, just before passing through the barrier, she glanced back for the last time, her parents were still standing helplessly in the middle of the platform. But she'd only calmed down when their train started gathering up speed, slowly heading in the direction of Hogwarts. 


	5. Bitter surprise

Chapter 5  
  
Bitter surprise  
  
The Great Hall was all set for yet another Sorting Ceremony. Elizabeth sat in her usual place, only half-listening to what Jane was telling her. She felt like singing! She was finally back at Hogwarts ... despite her grandmother, despite her parents, and even despite Voldemort's regained power.  
  
The Ceremony went on as usual. The Sorting Hat sang its song (which was, again, a little different, as the hat changed the words every year), the new students were sorted, and Elizabeth was just starting to wonder why Snape wasn't present at the Ceremony, when Dumbledore stood up.  
  
"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts!" he said, his eyes twinkling. "There are a few staff changes I'd like to announce - firstly, I'm sure you'll all be sorry to hear that Professor Snape has temporarily left us, so, until he returns, Professor Fletcher has kindly agreed to fill in."  
  
The Headmaster then had to make a pause in his speech, as the cheering coming from all sides was too loud for him to continue. Even some of the teachers couldn't suppress a smile - Professor Snape obviously wasn't only unpopular with the students, but among his colleagues as well.  
  
The clapping and whistling seemed endless, and eventually Dumbledore had to shout "Silence!" to calm the excited students down. Then he went on with the interrupted speech, introducing their new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher - Mrs. Figg. This time there was no cheering, especially the Slytherins became rather quiet when Dumbledore announced that Mrs. Figg would also become the new Head of Slytherin. Snape might have been unpleasant, but at least he always favoured his own house. What if Mrs. Figg was going to be like Professor McGonagall - and actually take points off her house ... something the Slytherins certainly weren't used to?  
  
When Dumbledore had finished his little speech, food appeared on the tables, and conversation resumed.  
  
"Looks like I'm the only person here, apart from the Slytherins, who's not happy to see Snape gone," Elizabeth told Jane, while stuffing her plate with food. "After four years of doing my best to please him, he just leaves... Anyway, I really hope that Fletcher guy is at least half as good as him."  
  
Little did she know, that Professor Fletcher would turn out to be her worst nightmare, as she was to discover the very first lesson they'd have with him. But for now, the world seemed a happy place for Elizabeth, and she cheerfully led the Ravenclaw first-years to their dormitories, climbing into bed herself a few minutes later.  
  
***  
  
Their first lesson the next morning was Care of Magical Creatures with Hagrid - and the Hufflepuffs. When Elizabeth reached Hagrid's hut, located near the edge of the Forbidden Forest, the giant was already there, standing next to a huge cage covered by a cloth. As soon as the rest of the class arrived, Hagrid, without saying a word, pulled the cloth off, revealing the animal inside. Immediately, the air was filled with a number of "Ooohs" and "Aaahs", for the cage was entirely occupied by a fully grown hydra. Which, indeed, was a sight most students didn't get every day, and Elizabeth strongly suspected Hagrid of getting the hydra merely to impress them on the first day of their school year. One look at the giant was enough to tell her she was right.  
  
"Now don't get too close to that cage! It might bite yeh!" he shouted, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. "And it hurts a bloody lot too, I can tell yeh," he added thoughtfully, stealing a look at his left hand, which, Elizabeth had noticed, was all covered in bandages.  
  
When all the students had had a good look at the hydra, Hagrid decided to tell them a few facts about this 'wonderful creature'. However, he had barely got to the secrets of hydra mating, when a piercing scream filled the air, freezing them all to the spot. But when they turned around, expecting the worst, they saw nothing more than Jamie, whose right hand was bleeding heavily. Obviously he'd wandered too close to the cage, as one of the hydra's heads was still stuck through the bars, eyeing them nastily.  
  
After Joshua'd offered to accompany his friend to the hospital wing, Hagrid decided to cut the lesson short, and when Elizabeth, along with the rest of the students, had set off for the castle, she heard him mutter something that sounded suspiciously like: "Bad hydra! How many times have I told yeh not to do that?"  
  
'Some things just don't change,' Elizabeth thought bitterly as she and Jane slowly walked to their next class, Herbology.  
  
After Herbology, they had lunch, and after lunch finally came the eagerly awaited double lesson of Potions - for the first time without the dreaded Professor Snape. Only Elizabeth dragged herself down to the dungeons somewhat reluctantly, her wishes regarding their new teacher being the exact opposite to everybody else's, as she, unlike the others, wanted him to be as Snape-like as possible. Which was not to be. 


	6. The Torture lesson

Chapter 6  
  
The Torture lesson  
  
Professor Fletcher was a small, elderly man with grey hair and twinkling blue eyes, who spoke in a very high-pitched voice, somehow making the students feel as though the classroom was full of him. In other words, the exact opposite of Professor Snape. But the worst was still to come - soon it became clear that Fletcher didn't know the first thing about Potions. As Elizabeth had once put it - even Hagrid would've made a better Potions teacher. Unfortunately, Professor Fletcher wasn't aware of his incapability, and so again and again he tried to demonstrate the preparation of some potion or other, his attempts mostly ending either by an explosion, or at least a melted cauldron. Although most students found his experiments amusing, and constantly kept talking about how wonderful Fletcher was, Elizabeth was disgusted. She had come to Hogwarts with the desire to learn something, but with lessons like these, she didn't stand a chance. As the time went by, however, she had slowly come to accept the fact, deciding that if she wasn't to have proper practical lessons, she'd at least try and gain as much information as she possibly could from books. There were the OWLs coming up at the end of the year, after all, and also, if Snape had returned unexpectedly... Thinking of Snape, Elizabeth had suddenly realized just how much she missed him. She missed the clear explanations, delivered in his typical, nearly-whispered fashion, she missed his sarcastic remarks ... come to think of it, she even missed his twisted smiles and ability to unexpectedly appear behind someone's back, scaring them out of their wits. Then she thought of Fletcher and almost felt like crying. If only they'd got somebody more suitable for the job, maybe she wouldn't have minded Snape being gone so much.  
  
When their first lesson of Potions (or Torture, as Elizabeth had decided to call it) with a new teacher was finally over, the Ravenclaws moved on to another first - Defence Against the Dark Arts with Mrs. Figg. However, when they reached the classroom, closely followed by the Gryffindors, it was empty, their new teacher being nowhere in sight. Nevertheless, the students eventually took their seats, muttering various assumptions on the possible whereabouts of their teacher as they did so. Hermione had just suggested that somebody should go and look for her, when, all of a sudden, there was a loud "pop" ... and a thin old lady with piercing dark eyes appeared behind the teacher's desk.  
  
"Good afternoon, darlings," she said, reminding Elizabeth of Professor Trelawney, their Divination teacher, who was also in the habit of calling her students pet names. "I apologize for my unusual 'entrance', but with invisibility being one of my specialties, I just couldn't restrain myself from giving you all a little surprise. So, Harry, no, I did not have an encounter with Peeves, nor did I get lost trying to find this classroom." And having said that, she gave the boy (who'd gone slightly red in the face) a mischievous look.  
  
"Hey, Harry, how come she knows you?" asked Elizabeth curiously.  
  
"She is my neighbour," Harry muttered, the colour still not gone from his cheeks.  
  
"This year, we won't be doing much theory," Mrs. Figg continued, "as in these dark times it would be of little use to you. We will be concentrating on the practical part of this subject instead - counter-curses, especially. In fact ... Harry, come over here."  
  
Harry obeyed, giving his teacher a puzzled look.  
  
"Now, I want you to take out your wand, that's right, and on the count of three, I'd like you to try and prevent the one spell I'm going to cast on you. Is that clear?"  
  
Harry looked slightly shaken, but eventually nodded yes.  
  
"All right, here we go. One ... two ... three ... Petrificus Totalus!"  
  
"Expelliarmus!" yelled Harry at exactly the same time, causing the two spells to cancel one another.  
  
"Excellent!" beamed Mrs. Figg. "Anybody else willing to give it a try?"  
  
Elizabeth gathered up all her courage and raised her hand, just as a satisfied-looking Harry plopped down into the seat next to her.  
  
"O.K., Miss...?"  
  
"Woodhouse," said Elizabeth, rising from her chair.  
  
"Yes, Miss Woodhouse, same thing, though, of course, I shall use a different spell this time. Well, are you ready? One ... two ... three ... Rictusempra!"  
  
But Elizabeth had managed to yell her "Expelliarmus" a fraction of a second earlier (and duck her teacher's spell at the same time), causing Mrs. Figg's wand to fly out of her hand as Mrs. Figg herself was thrown against the wall.  
  
"Terrific!" cried the slightly dishevelled teacher as she pulled herself up, wandering off to retrieve her wand. "You certainly don't lack talent, my dear, I must say. Nevertheless, by the end of the year, I expect all of you to be able to use a great deal more defensive spells than just the 'Expelliarmus'. But I'm getting slightly ahead of myself ... as for today, I'd simply like all of you to have a go at what Harry and Miss Woodhouse have just done, for I want to see how fast each of you can react. All right, who's first?"  
  
And so the rest of the lesson passed rather noisily, as students pushed and shoved each other in order to be the first to have a go at knocking out their teacher. But nobody else (not even the ever-perfect Hermione Granger) had succeeded in being faster than Mrs. Figg, most students ending up being quite the opposite, and therefore having to suffer the effects of their teacher's wide range of curses.  
  
***  
  
The rest of the week seemed to go on forever, but eventually the weekend did arrive, along with one of the chances to visit Hogsmeade. Even though Elizabeth had originally no intention of going, she was forced to change her mind in the end, as Jane's persistency on the subject was unbelievable and the chances she'd take no for an answer were next to none. So, as it were, Saturday afternoon found both of them seated at the Three Broomsticks, with large glasses of Butterbeer in front of them.  
  
"So, what do you think of Mrs. Figg? Don't you think she's a bit batty?" asked Jane, sipping her Butterbeer.  
  
"No, I like her. She's definitely less batty than Mad-Eye Moody, or Barty Crouch, or whoever it was we've had last year, I'm sure of that. And if anyone's a candidate for St. Mungo's around here, it's Fletcher."  
  
"You still on about that, are you? Well, I'm not saying he's a genius or anything, but still better than Snape."  
  
Elizabeth gave her a 'You-know-I-don't-agree' look, before wandering off to look for the waitress, Madam Rosmerta, in order to pay for their drinks. However, when she'd finally succeeded in finding the lady in question, and pulled out her purse with the intention to pay, she was shocked to discover it was empty. Muttering apologies, she quickly retreated back to her table, where she received an inquiring look from her friend.  
  
"I ran out of money," Elizabeth explained. "Could you possibly ... I mean, I know it was my turn today, but..." she trailed off, looking somewhat embarrassed.  
  
"Sure, no problem," said Jane, slightly amused by her friend's uneasiness, and waved at Madam Rosmerta who was passing.  
  
A few minutes later, they were walking back to Hogwarts, the outline of the castle dark against the setting sun.  
  
"I think it's time to send Wilma home," Elizabeth declared. "I've been putting it off until now, giving my parents time to recover from the shock, but I really can't wait any longer. I'll write them a letter right after dinner."  
  
She was as good as her word, and five days later, her owl was back, carrying a small package tied to her leg. As soon as she rewarded the bird with a piece of toast, Elizabeth pounced on the parcel. Eagerly, she tore off the wrapping, revealing a letter, a packet of Muggle sweets and a small bag filled with golden Galleons. Elizabeth, wishing to have the worst behind her, decided to read the letter first. It took her slightly longer to open it, though, for there was nothing she could do to stop her hands from quivering. But having read the first few lines, Elizabeth almost squealed with joy.  
  
Eli, (the letter said)  
  
Your father and I are furious with you! Have you any idea how worried we were when you'd left? We've even tried sending a letter to Hogwarts via Muggle mail! Which, of course, didn't work, so when you'd finally decided to send Wilma back to us, we immediately wrote to your Headmaster, asking him to send you home as soon as possible. Fortunately for you, he had kindly explained to us that the story about Voldemort attacking your school is completely fictive - and we had no reason not to believe him. So you can stay where you are ... AND we forgive you, but don't you dare ever do such a silly thing again, or you'll really face the consequences.  
  
Anyway, I'm sending you some money (as you had asked ... although I don't really think you deserve it), for I'm sure you wouldn't have much left by now - if any. Unfortunately, I couldn't send you any clothes, as I don't know how to. I don't think Wilma could carry as much as a single sweater. So you'll just have to last with what you have until Christmas (and I hope you ARE coming home for Christmas!).  
  
Well, I'm running out of paper now, sooo ... don't forget to write soon - and if there is any chance of Voldemort even coming near your school, make sure you catch the train home right away.  
  
Love,  
  
Mum  
  
"Well, that was rather silly of me - I forgot to shrink my clothes before I left," Elizabeth muttered partly to herself and partly to Jane when she'd finished reading. "But what does it matter, the main thing is that my parents aren't angry with me anymore. Still, I'm glad Mum doesn't know how to send Howlers. I'm sure she wouldn't have missed this opportunity to try it out."  
  
And with that, she tore open the packet of Muggle sweets, cheerfully sharing them with everyone present in the Great Hall that morning, even the Slytherins. 


	7. Jealous? No way!

Chapter 7  
  
Jealous? No way!  
  
As the weeks went by, however, Elizabeth's happiness had slowly evaporated, and as usual, it was Professor Fletcher who was to blame - he and his nightmarish Potions lessons, which were becoming worse and worse by the minute. On one dull, grey December afternoon, this poor excuse for a teacher had decided he'd had enough of demonstrations, and actually forced the students to make a potion of their own. Thus making a big mistake, because most students were unable to make a proper potion even under Snape's supervision, but at least Snape had prevented most of the cauldrons from exploding ... unlike Professor Fletcher, who, with his lack of knowledge and teaching experience, could do nothing but watch helplessly as panic began to spread around the classroom at the speed of a bushfire. One by one the cauldrons exploded, causing various more or less serious injuries to their owners. Soon, most of the class was up in the hospital wing, with Joshua and Jamie, who had been affected the most, having to be carried up, as they were both unconscious. The few students, who'd managed to remain free of injuries, then spent the rest of the afternoon helping Professor Fletcher clean the classroom.  
  
"That's it, I've had enough!" fumed Elizabeth as she and Jane were walking from the dungeons. "I have to find out where Snape is, and hopefully make him come back."  
  
"O.K., but who are you going to ask?" inquired Jane.  
  
Elizabeth had to admit she didn't know yet, but just then, she saw Harry, Ron and Hermione coming in the opposite direction, so she said: "I'll ask Harry. He knows everything that goes on around here, so he might know something about Snape too."  
  
And with that, she ran up to him, giving a nod in the direction of Ron and Hermione before blurting out: "Hi, Harry! So happy to see you ... I was just just wondering if you could tell me where Snape is at the moment? I really need to talk to him and I thought you might know."  
  
Harry gave her a look as if to say 'Why would anybody want to talk to *him*?', but eventually answered: "I think he's on some kind of mission, but I don't know where. And even if I did, I probably wouldn't be allowed to tell you, because I heard Dumbledore say something about it being very secret and..."  
  
But at that moment, he was interrupted by Ron, who'd been watching Elizabeth rather suspiciously right from the start of the conversation, and who now asked: "Why would you want to talk to that greasy git, anyway?"  
  
For some reason, this insult of Snape had sent a wave of fury going all through Elizabeth's body, suddenly making her want to knock Ron to the ground and beat the living hell out of him. But she quickly dismissed any such thoughts from her mind and brought herself to answer the question with a false sweet smile instead.  
  
"Well, maybe you haven't noticed," she said, trying to look as innocent as possible, although even Ron couldn't mistake the sarcasm in her voice for anything else, "but Professor Fletcher is an incompetent old fool, and after today I'm beginning to fear for the students' safety. That's why I want to talk to Snape - to try and make him come back ... before somebody gets seriously hurt."  
  
"You want *Snape* back?" asked Ron in disbelief. "You must be out of your mind! Whatever Fletcher did today, it surely couldn't have been as bad as even a single minute with Snape!"  
  
"You have Potions on Thursday, right?" Elizabeth asked, clearly not expecting an answer, for she quickly went on, determined to have the last word. "So maybe you should keep your opinion to yourself until then, because unless I'm greatly mistaken, Fletcher won't be put off by today's incident - and he'll try the same with your class. Then perhaps the idea of Snape coming back won't sound so bad to you any more. Have a nice evening!"  
  
And with that, she departed, leaving Ron staring open-mouthed after her.  
  
But she hadn't even reached the end of the corridor, when she heard somebody running after her. Turning around, she saw Jane ... accompanied by a rather excited-looking Hermione Granger. Elizabeth rolled her eyes - she and Hermione weren't exactly friends ... in fact, she found the girl quite unpleasant, and ever since their rather one-sided conversation four years ago, she had been doing her best to avoid the Gryffindor's company as much as possible. But it looked as though there would be no getting out of it this time - the best she could do was to take a deep breath and...  
  
"Hey, Elizabeth, that was great!" Hermione exclaimed. "Even I can't usually get Ron to shut up like that - you've really left him speechless there!"  
  
Elizabeth let her breath out a bit quicker than she'd intended. For a moment, she was lost for words, because whatever she'd expected Hermione to say, it wasn't this.  
  
"Well ... thank you, Hermione," she said finally. "But I thought Ron was your friend, or am I wrong?"  
  
"Oh, he is," Hermione whispered, looking around as if to make sure he wasn't anywhere near. "But he can get very annoying sometimes, talking about Quidditch for hours... Or take Snape - he's absolutely obsessed with hating that man, I don't think even Harry hates him that much, even though I'd understand if he did. Anyway, talking about Snape - I agree with you, I too think he should come back. I'd never say this in front of Ron, but the truth is, I'd do absolutely anything to get the school rid of Fletcher. I just can't stand that guy! Mind you, Snape's not much better - cruel and mean and unfair, but at least he knows his stuff. And when he returns, I might actually be happy to see him for once."  
  
"It almost sounds as though you fancy him," Elizabeth said, feeling a sudden pang of jealousy shoot through her body. "Seeing I've never heard any other person say as much as one nice word about him before..."  
  
"Heavens, no!" Hermione cried, shuddering at the very thought. "What on earth got an idea like *that* into your head?"  
  
"Sorry, forget it," Elizabeth muttered, suddenly feeling very foolish. "That was rather silly of me. Anyway, got to go, it's late and I want to get some sleep. Good night!"  
  
And having said that, Elizabeth quickly spun around and started to leave, but before Hermione could respond, she had turned back again, and on a sudden impulse said: "Oh, and if Ron gets too annoying, you're welcome to come and sit with us."  
  
Hermione smiled. "Thank you, Elizabeth. Actually, I might use the invitation as soon as tomorrow. I'd like to do a bit of studying, and our common room is far too noisy. Would you two like to join me in the library in the evening?"  
  
Elizabeth and Jane both nodded, and after wishing each other good night, they all set off in different directions for their dormitories.  
  
"Great, we've missed dinner," Jane mumbled gloomily, but Elizabeth was too absorbed in her own thoughts to listen. Did she really feel jealous just a few minutes ago? And if so, why? Why would she mind if Hermione fancied Snape? Maybe it wasn't jealousy after all, but a completely different feeling, and she had just misinterpreted it. Or maybe, she was just tired. That sounded by far like the best option, so she decided to stick with it and hope that after a long hot bath and a good night's rest, all these thoughts and feelings would just melt away. 


	8. Love?

Chapter 8  
  
Love?  
  
Elizabeth didn't know what had made her change her opinion of Hermione so suddenly, whether it was the fact that the girl had shown that she actually had a mind of her own and didn't just repeat what Harry, Ron, or a book of some kind had said, or whether it was her discovery that she wasn't the only one in the school who longed for Snape to come back that had made all the difference. One way or another, what mattered now was that they had become friends, and Elizabeth was amused to see that during the last couple of weeks before Christmas, Hermione had spent more time in the library with her and Jane than she'd done hanging around with her two Gryffindor friends. And when the time to leave school for the Christmas holidays had finally arrived, Elizabeth realized she'd miss her company more than she'd ever have thought possible.  
  
***  
  
The journey home passed uneventfully, and earlier than she would've liked, Elizabeth found herself walking through the magical barrier, back into the ordinary world of Muggles. Nervously, she scanned the crowded platform, searching for any sign of her parents. Finally, she spotted her mother's long blond hair near the exit, so she took a deep breath, mentally prepared herself for the inevitable ... and set off.  
  
When she'd finally pushed her way through the ever-present crowd, however, the reaction she got from her mother wasn't quite what she'd expected. She thought her mother would still be angry with her because of the escape, so she prepared herself either for a cold welcome or perhaps a loud scene, but never did she expect to be greeted with a warm smile.  
  
"Welcome home!" her mother cried, giving her a tight hug, and immediately continued with a cannonade of questions: "How was your trip? Are you tired? How is school? Do you-"  
  
"Mum, I can't talk when you're nearly strangling me!" Elizabeth interrupted, trying to wriggle free from her mother's embrace.  
  
"What, you want to deny your old Mummy a hug?" her mother asked, pretending to look hurt, but let her go.  
  
Elizabeth decided she'd probably never understand the way her mother's mind worked. She was supposed to have been yelled at right now ... and instead, here she was, making sure her mother didn't squash her with love.  
  
"The trip was O.K.," she said, once she was free again. "I had a little nap on the train, so I'm not too tired. And ... where's Dad?" she changed the subject, suddenly realizing his absence.  
  
"Oh, he's out by the car. You know how afraid he always is of someone stealing it... Well, let's not keep him waiting, you can tell me all about school as we go."  
  
So Elizabeth grabbed her backpack and obediently followed her mother outside, showering her with complaints about their new Potions teacher along the way. She had just started telling her how much she wanted Snape to come back, when they finally reached their car, so her rambling was cut short for the moment.  
  
Her father also seemed pleased to see her, and yet again, the subject of her escape was not discussed. Elizabeth, however, was still not fully convinced that her parents had simply forgotten about it. Maybe they were just leaving it until they got home?  
  
Her question was answered a few seconds later - and the answer was no. Simply because her parents had started to talk about it even earlier - as soon as they all got into the car.  
  
"So, my dear, I daresay it is time for you to explain yourself," her mother went straight to the point, giving Elizabeth a stern look from the front seat. "Do you think it's normal, running away like that?"  
  
"Mum, there's nothing to discuss!" Elizabeth whined. "I had no other choice! You both knew how much I'd wanted to go back to school, and still you didn't let me leave. And now that you know I really wasn't putting myself in any danger by going back, because that was just a story grandmother had made up, you're still making a fuss about it! I'm O.K., and I think that's all that matters, doesn't it?" And she shot her mother a challenging look, as if daring her to disagree.  
  
"Elizabeth, calm down," her mother said firmly. "You've made yourself clear enough. But you have to look at it from our point of view. We were worried sick!"  
  
Elizabeth only grunted in agreement, and remained silent for the rest of the journey.  
  
***  
  
It was nearly evening when the family finally arrived at their villa, which now looked cold and deserted, and the fact that it had started to rain didn't help to make the house appear any more cheerful. It didn't improve Elizabeth's sulky mood, either.  
  
As soon as she crossed the threshold, however, and took in all the Christmas decorations, as well as the wonderful aroma of freshly baked cookies which had immediately hit her nostrils, all her unpleasant thoughts suddenly remained forgotten in the car as Elizabeth found herself completely swallowed by the Christmas spirit. In an attempt not to miss anything, she quickly dumped her luggage into her room, and then rushed down to the kitchen to join her mother and father who were both busy preparing the Christmas dinner.  
  
"Can I help?" she asked cheerfully.  
  
Her mother took a look around the kitchen, then finally pointed to a can of stewed pineapple. "Yes, you can serve the pineapple into bowls. And please don't spill the pineapple juice all over the counter like last time, I've got other things to do than to get the kitchen rid of your sticky mess."  
  
Elizabeth made a face. "Mum, I'm not a baby any more. I think I was about seven when I spilled that juice, and if you haven't noticed, I am now sixteen. I repeat - sixteen!"  
  
"Sometimes it doesn't look like it," her mother muttered, and Elizabeth was sure she was yet again referring to her escape. However, she was smart enough to ignore the remark, because she knew that there were times, and this was one of them, when arguing with her mother was downright pointless, so she ceremoniously turned her back on her, and started to busy herself with the pineapple can instead. But she hadn't even started filling the second bowl, when the doorbell rang, surprising Elizabeth so much she'd almost knocked the bowl off the counter.  
  
"That's Grandma," her father said. "Elizabeth, go open the door, help Grandma with her coat and umbrella, and then chat with her for a while, at least until your mother and I are finished in here."  
  
"But what about the pineapple?" Elizabeth protested, the vision of having to chat with her nearly deaf grandmother for god-knows-how-long not really being her idea of a pleasantly spent Christmas Eve.  
  
"Don't worry, I'll take care of it," her father assured her. "Now go, don't let Grandma stand out there in the rain!"  
  
Elizabeth reluctantly left the kitchen and slowly made her way into the hall, deliberately taking her time before finally opening the door.  
  
"Hello Elizabeth!" her grandmother yelled ('Why is it that deaf people always yell?' Elizabeth thought, doing her best not to cover her ears) as soon as she walked in.  
  
"Hi," answered Elizabeth coldly and quickly seized Grandma's umbrella, since Grandma was successfully managing to get water all over the carpet.  
  
"You look thin," the old woman observed. "Has anything happened to the house-elves, that they don't even feed you properly?"  
  
"No," Elizabeth said through clenched teeth, and motioned for her grandmother to follow her into the living room.  
  
"I knew we shouldn't have let you go this year," Grandma went on, seating herself comfortably on the sofa. "There's danger out there. But young people never listen to older - and wiser - people's advice, they always do what *they* think is best. Like you. Instead of staying in the safety of your home, what do you do? Fly away on a broomstick. You're lucky to be alive, you know. You might think Voldemort's just a joke, well, I assure you he isn't. Every second there's a chance that he might attack Hogwarts. It's suicide going there right now!"  
  
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Really, Grandma, you're exaggerating! Have you seen the letter Dumbledore had sent to my parents? He clearly states there that so far the school is absolutely safe, and that if there's ever even the slightest chance of students being in danger, he'll send them straight home. What more do you want?"  
  
But Grandma had either not heard her, or, and Elizabeth was sure this was the case, since she had been talking *very* loudly, pretended not to hear her, for she continued in her monologue as if her granddaughter hadn't said a thing.  
  
"Voldemort's a great wizard. I was Head of Slytherin at the time he was at school, and I watched him improve, day after day. Soon he excelled in all the subjects, although the Dark Arts have always remained his specialty. Nobody's even come close to his results for the rest of my teaching career, well, maybe with the exception of Severus Snape."  
  
Elizabeth's head snapped up at the mention of her former Potions master.  
  
'Maybe this conversation isn't going to be so bad after all,' she thought with a smile, but aloud she said: "Grandma, can you tell me something about Snape? What he was like at school, did he have any friends ... and so on?"  
  
Unfortunately, in her eagerness, Elizabeth forgot to speak up, so the only response she got from her grandmother was a "Mhm", meaning the old lady hadn't heard her, but was unsuccessfully pretending that she had. And although Elizabeth wasn't fooled, it still drove her crazy.  
  
"Grandma, I know you haven't heard me!" she shouted desperately. "So once again - CAN YOU TELL ME SOMETHING ABOUT SNAPE? Did he have any friends, did he..."  
  
Here, Elizabeth stopped for a few seconds, her lips suddenly curling into a nasty smile.  
  
"...have a girlfriend?" she finished, her smile growing even wider.  
  
"He still teaches, does he?" her Grandma said, absolutely ignoring Elizabeth's impatient questions. "Funny, I'm sure I've never heard you talk about him before."  
  
"Grandma!" Elizabeth wailed. "I told you about all my teachers the very moment I came home for Christmas in my first year! But I suppose you either forgot ... or didn't hear me - yet again! Anyway, Snape doesn't teach anymore, or at least temporarily. But I doubt he'll ever return..." And with a sigh, she added: "Although I'd give anything to get him back, he was the best teacher I've ever had..."  
  
"If he wasn't twice your age, I'd say you have a thing for him," the old lady said, giving Elizabeth's face a thorough inspection. "But then again, love is known for not really caring about age differences..."  
  
"Grandma, really!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "I just like him as a teacher, that's all!"  
  
"Well, *that* would be a first. I'm sure I've never heard a student talk nicely about his teaching methods before. Quite on the contrary, actually. Sooo ... if you just like him as a teacher, then tell me - exactly *why* would you like to know if he had a girlfriend?"  
  
"That's because he's such a private person," Elizabeth explained. "He never says anything not related to Potions ... unlike Flitwick, for example, who spends most of his lessons talking about what he did on the weekend, or, when he's in a good mood, what it was like when he was young. But Snape - we don't know anything about him. We don't even know how old he is! And since I always like to know as much as I possibly can about all my teachers, and since, until now, Snape has managed to remain a complete mystery, I thought this would be a good chance to find something out - and the juicier the details, the better."  
  
"O.K., fair enough. But don't expect miracles from me, I don't know that much about him, either. Well ... where shall I begin? Ah yes ... I'm almost sure he had started school a year early, and that might have been in ... 1970, yes, that's right. So that'd make him..."  
  
"Thirty-nine," said Elizabeth after some quick calculations.  
  
"Yes, thirty-nine. Anyway, right from the start, he was the best in his year. And where Dark Arts and Potions were concerned, I think he knew even more than most of the seventh-years put together. The only subject where he wasn't the best was Flying - there he constantly remained in the shadow of his enemy, James Potter."  
  
"Harry's father?" Elizabeth asked.  
  
"Yes, Harry's father," her grandmother confirmed.  
  
"But why were they enemies?"  
  
"The usual Gryffindor x Slytherin rivalry, I suppose. And since Potter belonged to a Gryffindor group called the Marauders, who were more Gryffindor than anyone before or after them, it was only natural for all the Slytherins to hate them. But I think Severus had a reason to hate them more than anybody else."  
  
"And that was...?"  
  
"I believe they had played some sort of joke on him ... which nearly got him killed."  
  
"That's awful!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "Did they at least get expelled?"  
  
"No, for some reason, Albus had hushed it all up. I never got to know why."  
  
"But that was really unfair to Snape!"  
  
"Yes, poor Severus. He had never been the type to show off his emotions, but I could see how much it was bothering him. He withdrew even more into that little world of his, and plunged headfirst into schoolwork. He started spending every minute of his free time in the library ... so it didn't really surprise me when on one of my nightly patrols, I found him curled up in the very far corner of the Restricted Section, fast asleep. I didn't have the heart to wake him up.  
  
And then ... then he started hanging out with the Avery gang. They were a bad lot, those boys. Awfully into the Dark Arts. Most of them had probably turned into Death Eaters later on."  
  
"What's a Death Eater?"  
  
"The worst thing a wizard can turn into - a follower of Voldemort."  
  
"Oh." Elizabeth looked thoughtful. Finally, she asked: "Did Snape become one?"  
  
"I don't know," her grandmother admitted. "He graduated soon after, at the top of his year, of course, and I had lost sight of him afterwards. But about eight years later, he suddenly appeared in Albus's office - and got the position of a Potions teacher, replacing dear old Professor Anderson, who'd been ready to retire for quite a long time, and was only only waiting for Albus to find a suitable replacement."  
  
Here, the old lady sighed, and her eyes got a faraway look. When she finally spoke again, it was in a voice filled with emotion.  
  
"Ah, Edna Anderson," she said. "She was such a darling ... and a wonderful friend, too. The fun we had together... I remember once, shortly after she- "  
  
"Grandma, you're straying from the subject," Elizabeth reminded softly. "I believe we were discussing Snape before?"  
  
"Oh yes, I got a bit carried away, didn't I? O.K., Severus ... well, there's not much left to say, just that students hated him right from the start of his teaching career, which is why I was always wondering what had actually forced him to follow this particular path, because it was obvious that he felt the same way about his students as they did about him. And now you're saying he's still there, or at least has been until the end of last year... Well, I can't help but think that there's something we don't know about him, something that had kept him at Hogwarts for all this time..."  
  
"Maybe it's got something to do with Voldemort," suggested Elizabeth. "It can't be just pure coincidence, that the moment Voldemort gets his power back, Snape suddenly decides to leave - not when he's had nearly fifteen years to do it, anyway. Grandma, honestly, do you think he could be a Death Eater?"  
  
"I really don't know. On one hand, I'm convinced he was much too smart to join the ranks of such a ... madman, but on the other, the Marauders' joke had changed him terribly, and in the state he was afterwards, he could've done anything, joining the Death Eaters included."  
  
"I truly hope he didn't," Elizabeth said sadly. "But let's change the subject, shall we? You still didn't tell me if he had a girlfriend or not."  
  
Her grandmother chuckled. "I'm sorry to disappoint you," she said, "but I must say I haven't got a clue. I'm sure I've never seen him in the company of a girl, if you don't count the times he was forced to work with one during class. But then again, if he had been involved in a relationship of some sort, I don't think many people'd have known about it, he was much too secretive to let it become common knowledge."  
  
"What about later?" Elizabeth asked hopefully. "During his teaching days?"  
  
"Nothing there, either. He treated all of his female colleagues the same - with cold respect."  
  
Elizabeth looked so disappointed her grandmother had to feel sorry for her, so she quickly added: "But you know what? I've just remembered something. It's not quite what you wanted, but it will have to do... You see, still as a student, I think Severus might have had a crush on *me*. I'm not sure, of course, it could've been just my imagination playing tricks on me, but the way he looked at me sometimes, when he thought I wasn't watching..."  
  
The old lady trailed off, but had she continued, Elizabeth wouldn't have heard her anyway, since she was too busy laughing herself silly. She couldn't help herself, the idea of Snape, *Snape* of all people, having a crush on somebody was just too ... too ... she wasn't really sure what, but it was definitely funny.  
  
At that moment, though, there was a noise at the door, and Elizabeth's father came in.  
  
"Hello Grandma," he said, and seeing Elizabeth shaking with laughter, he added: "What's so funny, Eli?"  
  
"N ... nothing," she choked out, clutching her stomach.  
  
Her father gave her an incredulous look, but when he saw he wasn't about to get a decent answer anytime soon, he decided to change the subject. "Dinner's ready," he announced, and motioned for the two females to follow him out of the living room.  
  
***  
  
Dinner was fantastic, although Elizabeth couldn't appreciate the food half as much as the others, since her mind kept on wandering off to the conversation she'd had earlier that evening. Unfortunately, the part that continued to come back the most had to be the one concerning Snape's crush, and no matter how hard Elizabeth tried, it still made her mouth twitch, forcing her to constantly hide her face in her hands, because the last thing she wanted was for her family to think she'd finally lost it. Her mother, however, who was unbeatable at sensing anything out of the ordinary, soon discovered that her daughter's behaviour was a little strange.  
  
"Eli, are you all right?" she asked, giving the girl a suspicious look.  
  
"Fine, just a bit tired," Elizabeth lied and pretended to stifle a yawn, managing to cover another one of her half-smiles at the same time. "Would it be O.K. if I went to bed early?"  
  
"We'll survive," her mother assured her. "Good night!"  
  
"Night," replied Elizabeth, and after blowing imaginary kisses to the whole family, she quickly left the dining room, hoping nobody had noticed her mouth twitch yet again.  
  
Getting up to her room, Elizabeth finally had time to give her conversation with Grandma some proper thought. At first, the only thing her brain would recall was Snape's supposed infatuation, but eventually she managed to remember almost everything that had been said. For some reason, though, two sentences stood out more than the rest.  
  
'If he wasn't twice your age, I'd say you have a thing for him... But then again, love is known for not really caring about age differences...'  
  
"Why does *this* keep on coming back?" Elizabeth asked the empty room. "It's not even true!"  
  
She had to admit she liked Snape, but liked him as a teacher, because he was the only one who had challenged her to give a subject more than her best, so while in other subjects her only goal was to get homework over and done with, in Potions she actually gave her essays some thought, and didn't just blindly copy a bunch of facts out of a book. And not counting Fletcher, this was the main reason why she wanted him back.  
  
'And because you love him,' said a nagging little voice at the back of her head.  
  
'I don't!' protested Elizabeth. 'He's old enough to be my father!'  
  
'So?' asked the voice provokingly.  
  
'So nothing. Besides, even if I did love him, it wouldn't lead anywhere. He'd never have a relationship with a student. Or *any* relationship, for that matter.'  
  
'But if he loved you...'  
  
Elizabeth laughed. 'Snape in love? I'm more likely to see a pink elephant!'  
  
'Well, he did have a crush on your grandmother...'  
  
'Yes, but remember - Grandma wasn't sure about it. Maybe it was just her imagination.'  
  
The voice didn't seem to have any arguments left for the moment, so it decided to change the subject instead. 'Let's leave his feelings for a while,' it said, 'and concentrate on yours. So once again - do you love him?'  
  
'No,' came the answer, although it didn't sound as convincing as the first time.  
  
'Don't you feel a funny tingling feeling in your stomach every time you even think of his name?'  
  
'Well ... yes, but that's...'  
  
'Don't you think about him at least once a day?'  
  
'Yes, but that's just because I have to think about Fletcher all the time, so automatically, I also start imagining how nice it would be if Snape came back.'  
  
But the voice still wasn't satisfied. 'Wouldn't you want to hug him, to plant kisses all over his slender body, to ... and so on?'  
  
Elizabeth obediently tried to picture an image of her and Snape kissing, and to her utter bewilderment, it turned out to be surprisingly easy. And for some reason, it also sent shivers down her spine.  
  
'Ah,' the voice chuckled. 'You see?'  
  
Elizabeth suddenly felt an unresistable urge to beat the annoying voice out of her head.  
  
'Shut up!' she yelled, not quite sure whether she was more angry at the voice or at herself. For until today, she had been considered a completely rationalistic person, not really approving of feelings or emotions of any sort, and yet, here she was now, arguing with the voice of a non-existent person at the back of her head. She was beginning to feel a short stay at St. Mungo's would do her a world of good. Fortunately, at least the voice had decided to listen to her advice and finally fell silent, giving Elizabeth the chance to hopefully get some sleep.  
  
But the silence didn't last long, for as soon as the girl closed her eyes, the voice was back, if only with a short statement.  
  
'Good night!' it whispered. 'Sweet dreams!'  
  
Elizabeth opened her eyes. 'I know what you're thinking,' she told the voice. 'But I'm not going to dream of him ... and for your information, I'm not even going to think of him. What's the point? He's gone, so until he returns, I'm going to act as though he doesn't exist.' And with a sigh, she added: '*If* he returns.' 


	9. Elizabeth's Christmas

Chapter 9  
  
Elizabeth's Christmas  
  
But Elizabeth didn't keep her promise, in fact, she broke it the very next morning, for as soon as she woke up, her first thought went to Snape. Fortunately, she had also managed to remember that it was actually Christmas day, so she quickly pushed any inappropriate thoughts out of her mind, and forced herself to concentrate on looking forward to her presents instead. And sure enough, when, after taking care of all her morning activities, she arrived in the sunlit living room, she wasn't only greeted by the sight of a beautifully decorated Christmas tree, which had already been there the evening before anyway, she just hadn't paid it enough attention, but also by a stack of colourful packages arranged underneath it.  
  
"Mum! Dad! Grandma!" she yelled at the top of her lungs. "Time for presents!"  
  
It was only a matter of seconds before her relatives came rushing into the room, causing Elizabeth to strongly suspect them of hiding somewhere close by the whole time, patiently waiting for her to do exactly what she had done - discover the presents and proceed to yell her head off.  
  
"Look how many there are!" her grandmother exclaimed. "Santa's really outdone himself this year!"  
  
Elizabeth snickered. She knew Santa didn't exist, she'd found that out almost nine years ago, but every year, she played along with the game, pretending to still be the little girl who had no idea whatsoever that it wasn't Santa who'd given her the presents; that really it was her family she was supposed to thank. And since her parents seemed to have developed an almost childish obsession with the game, Elizabeth didn't have the heart to break the tradition. The result was, that she now had the appropriate expression glued to her face, hoping her answer: "Yes, I really think we should send him a thank you letter afterwards," sounded as convincing as ever. And since Grandma was looking satisfied, Elizabeth decided it was finally time to dive into the present pile waiting under the Christmas tree.  
  
***  
  
Half an hour later, Elizabeth was comfortably seated in the middle of the living room, once more going over all her presents, which were now lying in a little heap at her feet, long since relieved of their colourful wrappings. And even though most of them didn't come as a surprise to her, since it was the kind of stuff she was used to getting every year (books; quills; underwear - although this year, to Elizabeth's great delight, it didn't look like a five year old's anymore, but, with a bit of imagination, more like something a grown-up woman would wear; T-shirts; a bag of golden Galleons from her grandmother...), there were still a few she hadn't expected, mostly some very curious magical stationery. There was a bottle of ink that changed colour every now and then, several pieces of parchment able to reflect the writer's state of mind (Elizabeth couldn't resist and had to try it out straight away, and since at that particular moment she was feeling nothing but happiness, the parchment immediately became covered with little smiley faces), and also a box of pink envelopes which worked a bit like Howlers, only instead of yelling, they spoke quietly. The person to whom the letter was addressed also had to open it as soon as he touched it, otherwise it'd explode in his face, leaving behind a most unpleasant smell - something between rotten eggs and a decaying fish.  
  
Apart from these few 'very' useful things, Elizabeth also got a make-up set, a book on how to charm one's hair 101 different ways and a pair of black dancing shoes. But there was one present which, in Elizabeth's opinion, stood way above the rest. It was a dress, the most beautiful one Elizabeth had ever seen, made of some black (a colour Elizabeth had become quite fond of lately) material, light as a feather, with semi-long sleeves and a V-shaped decolt that showed nearly as much as it was supposed to hide. Upon closer inspection, Elizabeth discovered that the dress wasn't really just black; that it was also covered with thousands of tiny silver specks, making it resemble a starry night sky.  
  
Elizabeth couldn't wait to try it on, so as soon as she was sure that all the family members were busy with their own presents, she slipped out of the room, taking with her not only the dress, but also the shoes, the make- up set and the book on hair.  
  
Half a minute later, she was already sitting in front of her dresser mirror, feverishly working on her new appearance, since she had decided that apart from trying on the dress, she could just as well do something nice to her face and hair to go with it.  
  
She started with the make-up, and although she'd never had a make-up set of her own, she had borrowed Jane's so many times that the procedure of making her face prettier had become almost like second nature to her. It didn't take long and Elizabeth's face had changed considerably; there were now black eyelines around her eyes, grey eyeshadows, a little bit of pink added to her cheeks and, lastly, a trace of light lipstick highlighting her already full lips. Examining herself in the mirror, and feeling happy with the result (although normally she would've also used some liquid make-up to hide the few freckles around her nose she wasn't particularly proud of, only there was no time for that now), Elizabeth proceeded to put on her new dress and shoes. She had never been the type to spend most of her time staring into the mirror, but now she couldn't resist giving her figure a thorough inspection. Although she hadn't grown much since her first year, at least her body had filled out in all the right places ... and the dress, unlike most of her other clothes, and especially her school robes, showed all her lovely curves to the fullest extent.  
  
When she decided she'd given herself enough attention, Elizabeth picked up the book on hair and flipped through its pages, searching for some nice charm to use on her short hair. And even though most of the stuff in the book could only be used on hair longer than Elizabeth's, Elizabeth had still managed to find a couple of charms that would work even with her boyish haircut.  
  
After spending several minutes going through the pictures of various creations one could achieve with short hair once more, she finally picked one that she particularly liked, and then headed downstairs, taking the open book with her.  
  
When she got back to the living room, everybody was still absorbed in their presents, so at first no one had noticed her reappear, but after ostentatively leaning against the door frame for a while, her mother finally glanced up ... and let out a gasp of surprise.  
  
"I was wondering where you'd gone," she said when she was at last able to speak again. "And, well, you look ... wonderful."  
  
At this point, the other two occupants of the room had also raised their heads, and both remained gaping at her with looks of utter disbelief on their faces.  
  
It was her grandmother who spoke first, although she still couldn't take her eyes off her beautiful granddaughter.  
  
"Well, looks like Santa had made the right decision when he bought you that dress. He must have overheard you complaining about the one you had to wear last year to the Yule Ball... Well, you certainly won't be embarrassing yourself in this one, I wouldn't be surprised if you became the star of the night at your next ball. Although ... I see you haven't done anything to your hair yet, didn't you find anything good in that book you got?"  
  
"I did, look - this one," Elizabeth said, crossing the living room and shoving the book under her grandmother's nose. "But since I'm not of age yet, I can't do the charm myself, so I thought maybe you could do it for me."  
  
"But of course!" her grandmother flared up and immediately pulled her wand out of her sleeve. "Just stand back a little, that's right, and ... here we go!"  
  
With these words, she pointed her wand at Elizabeth's hair and then, without saying anything, although with an expression of utmost concentration on her face, performed a little flick of the wrist and a beam of white light shot out of the tip of her wand. Elizabeth didn't feel anything, but when her grandmother lowered her wand and started inspecting her work with a look of thorough satisfaction, she came to the conclusion that the charm had most probably already been done.  
  
"So?" she asked. "How do I look?"  
  
"Beautiful," said her mother. "I'm sure that at the next ball you have, all the boys are going to fight for a chance to dance with you."  
  
Elizabeth laughed and went to have a look at herself in the mirror in the hall. And she had to admit her mother was right, because with her hair now charmed to stick out in all directions (without looking greasy like it always did when she'd attempted to put gel in it), as well as to glitter like the surface of the Hogwarts lake, she really did look stunning. Though she was sure she didn't particularly want boys to fight over her, come to think of it, she'd rather not dance at all than to have to endure a dance with one of those stupid, immature gits. But then, why would she bother to look beautiful when she had no intention of dancing anyway?  
  
'Because Snape might be there,' said the all too familiar voice at the back of her head.  
  
'Snape'd never dance with me,' Elizabeth argued. 'Or anybody else, he never dances. And besides, didn't I tell you to shup up about him last night? He's probably gone forever, so there's absolutely no point in keeping some false hopes. Now go away.'  
  
And with that, she stormed out of the hall and back into the living room, because she was sure that while being with her family, she wouldn't have time for stupid thoughts ... or conversations with annoying voices. Of course she knew the voice was right, she *had* been subconsciously thinking of Snape whilst putting on all the make-up, but she was determined to stop this silly crush or whatever it was before it got too far. That's why she spent the rest of the day chatting with her relatives about anything that happened to come to her mind, just so she wouldn't have any chance to think about Snape, although it didn't take long for her to realize it didn't have much effect. So as soon as she dared suggest going to bed without it looking too suspicious, she grabbed her pile of presents, wished everybody good night and disappeared upstairs.  
  
When she got to her room, she threw the presents on her table and then sat down in front of the mirror with the intention to take off her make-up. But at first she couldn't resist, and had to give herself one last look before wiping all the make-up off her face. And automatically, she also started wondering whether Snape'd give her as much as a second look if he saw her like this. She got as far as imagining him asking her for a dance before she realized she was thinking about him again, and that's when she decided she'd once and for all find out what her feelings for him were. She got up, found some ink, a quill and the enchanted parchment she'd tried out earlier that day, and then sat back down, clearing her mind of all thoughts except the ones concerning Snape. Then, with a deep breath, she touched the parchment with her quill. And to her not-so-big surprise, it immediately covered itself with tiny pink hearts.  
  
'I told you you love him,' declared the ever-present voice. 'But you wouldn't listen.'  
  
'Okay, okay, yes, you were right,' Elizabeth admitted resentfully. 'Are you happy now?'  
  
'Sure. And since I've finally got my point across, I promise to leave you alone from now on. Unless you start denying your feelings again, then I would be back - stronger and more annoying than ever.'  
  
'Don't worry, I'll be careful not to do any such thing. Now off you go.'  
  
And since the voice didn't say anything, Elizabeth was left to finish taking off her make-up in peace, and even go to sleep half an hour later.  
  
A/N: I'd like to say a big thank you to my very first reviewer, Rosmerta - your kind words really did lighten up my day, and also gave me new energy to go on with the story.  
  
But - I've still only got two reviews, so come on everybody, even if you don't like the story - I'd like to know!  
  
Also, I've finished reading The Order of the Phoenix - and I really don't know what to say. Poor, poor Snape, more than ever do I think he deserves to be loved, so I'd better get a move on with the story and make that wish come true as fast as I can. 


	10. Back to Hogwarts

Chapter 10  
  
Back to Hogwarts  
  
Elizabeth had never before wished for any Christmas holiday to end with such despair. Of course, she had always been looking forward to getting back to school, because after spending almost two weeks solely in the company of her parents, or her grandmother at the most, she usually couldn't wait to be back with her friends again, but this time, there were two reasons which made her want to return to Hogwarts even more. One was her newly made friend Hermione, whom she was eager to talk to again, the other, since that memorable Christmas day when she had finally realized what her true feelings for him were, was none other than Snape. Yes, she knew the chances that he would be back and teaching again were slim, but then, doesn't hope always die last? That's why she nervously counted down the days until her departure, although it sometimes looked to her as if though the time to leave would never come.  
  
But, as it is, even a seemingly endless period of time always comes to an end eventually, so it happened that one morning Elizabeth woke up, only to find herself finally facing the eagerly awaited journey back to her beloved school. And as soon as she realized that there was actually a slight possibility that in less than ten hours she would finally see the man that for the last couple of days she had only been dreaming about, her heart started beating like mad and her stomach felt like someone had dropped something really heavy in it.  
  
Luckily, her last few hours at home turned out to be far too busy for her to follow these thoughts any further, with all the last minute packing and the many orders and recommendations coming from all the family members, so she found herself boarding the Hogwarts Express without giving Snape as much as a single thought for the rest of the morning. Well, almost.  
  
Now that she was safely on the train, though, with most of her belongings resting in the luggage rack, all the thoughts and feelings came back with full force, and Elizabeth couldn't wait to finally talk to Jane and Hermione about them. But her mother seemed to want to prolong her torture, for she insisted on keeping Elizabeth to herself until the last minute, frantically trying to fill her head with some more advice on what to do if Voldemort attacked Hogwarts. And by the time she was finally convinced she had said everything that was on her mind, the train had already started moving, and was nearly halfway out of the station when she had stopped talking and started waving instead. Elizabeth let out a sigh of relief and went to join the other prefects, including Hermione, in the prefect carriage.  
  
Hermione seemed just as pleased to see Elizabeth as Elizabeth was to see her, and equally eager, if not more, to talk about her Christmas, so as soon as they got all their prefect duties out of the way, they rushed off to look for Jane, the only person left to make their little group complete.  
  
They found her almost immediately, and to Elizabeth's relief, she was alone, having been saving seats for the pair of them.  
  
"Hello, you two!" she greeted them. "I was wondering what had taken you so long."  
  
"Malfoy insisted on giving all the prefects a little speech," Hermione informed her, rolling her eyes. "Anyway, how was your Christmas? I had a wonderful time, my parents took me skiing to the Alps."  
  
"I spent my Christmas at our little cottage in the country. Most of my relatives were there, too, so it was pretty crowded, but I had fun, nevertheless. And ... what about you, Elizabeth? You didn't say anything yet."  
  
Elizabeth, who had been nervously biting her lip ever since she'd entered the compartment, now stopped, took a deep breath and said: "I've been at home the whole time, so nothing interesting, really. But ... there's something I want to tell you. I think I ... I've fallen in love."  
  
"Really?" Hermione exclaimed. "But ... we don't know him, do we?"  
  
"You do know him," Elizabeth replied gravely.  
  
"Well, then ... who is he?" demanded Jane.  
  
"Promise you won't laugh?" Elizabeth asked, and when both girls nodded, she took another deep breath and said: "It's Snape."  
  
The girls didn't laugh. In fact, they didn't do anything at all, and for a few moments they just sat there, disbelieving expressions planted on their faces, unable to move, unable to speak.  
  
In the end, it was Hermione who broke the silence.  
  
"Well, I must say I had a little ... suspicion, but since you had never said anything, I didn't want to force you to tell me. Anyway, are you sure it's not just a crush? I had one on Lockhart in my second year, you know."  
  
"And I think I had one on Lupin," Jane chimed in.  
  
"I wouldn't say it's just a crush," said Elizabeth determinedly.  
  
Hermione looked thoughtful. "No, I suppose not," she said finally. "I've never really given it much thought, but I think you'll both agree with my opinion that Snape is the kind of man people either love or hate. Or respect, like me," she added hastily.  
  
"But ... you haven't seen him for more than half a year," Jane pointed out. "I mean, how can you fall in love, just like that? Are you sure you didn't just somehow idealize your memories of him?"  
  
"Yes, I'm pretty sure I didn't do that. You know, what I think has happened is that exactly that half a year had made me realize what I feel for him. Before - I just took it for granted that he would be there every lesson, never failing to show up, never late, never ill. So I never really had a reason to think about my feelings for him, but I reckon I've probably loved him all along, it's just that I've realized it only two weeks ago."  
  
"Well, I suppose that makes sense," Jane admitted. "What I don't get, though, is how you can actually love a man like that? I mean, this is *Snape* we're talking about! What can you possibly see in *him*?"  
  
"Jane, calm down!" said Hermione. "The fact that *you* can't stand him doesn't mean everybody else has to feel the same. I'm sure Snape has a lot of qualities, it's just that they're not so plain to see."  
  
"Ah, Hermione, you're so right," said Elizabeth dreamily. "For one thing, he's terribly intelligent ... and skilful ... and knowledgeable ... and, of course, rather sexy..." (at this point, Jane seemed to have been overcome by a very serious looking coughing fit) "...well, and then I would also think that he's the kind of person you can really rely on, who wouldn't let you down no matter what if he somehow came about to truly care for you... Well, and lastly, I really believe he's not half as cold and mean as he appears to be on the outside; that if somebody got to know him better, and I mean really know him, they'd discover that deep inside, under all that protective shell, a shy, sensitive and caring person is hiding, who would give anything for someone to love him and understand him."  
  
Elizabeth finished and looked around. It was obvious her two friends didn't share her view; Jane had stopped coughing and was now laughing uncontrollably, and even Hermione looked as though she was having a hard time keeping a straight face.  
  
Finally, Jane seemed to have calmed down enough to speak.  
  
"You really must love him, Elizabeth," she said, wiping away a stray tear with the back of her hand. "But honestly, do you believe there's any chance of him falling in love with you too?"  
  
Elizabeth sighed. "No, probably not. But I assure you I'll do everything in my power to try and achieve the unachievable."  
  
"Um ... maybe ... maybe you should know something about him first, " said Hermione uncertainly. "I think it's meant to be kept a secret, really, but I trust you and Jane not to tell anyone, so I suppose it won't matter if two more people'll know. Well, it's just that Snape ... was a Death Eater."  
  
Elizabeth felt as if her whole world had come tumbling down. So it was as she had feared - Snape had joined Voldemort in the end. What was she going to do now? Even if he did love her, she knew she couldn't possibly live with the thought of him attending all those Dark meetings, fulfilling the orders of that ... animal... But then she realized something. Hermione didn't say "...is a Death Eater," she said...  
  
"Was?" Elizabeth asked in a tiny voice full of hope.  
  
"Yes, was," Hermione confirmed. "He's on our side now, and I think the mission he's been on since the beginning of the school year is bound to have something to do with him spying on Voldemort."  
  
Elizabeth was sure she had just recovered from the greatest shock of her life. So it was back to the beginning again - no Dark meetings, no Voldemort ... just Snape. And her.  
  
"Well ... that's all right then, isn't it?" she asked, hoping, despite her madly beating heart, to sound calm. Because, after all, Hermione didn't know that she hadn't been listening properly, so if she looked as though she was about to collapse, Hermione could get the wrong idea.  
  
But the Gryffindor still looked concerned. "You mean you don't mind?" she asked, trying to decipher Elizabeth's expression.  
  
"No, why should I? If he's really on our side now, it means he has realized that joining Voldemort was wrong, and isn't that what counts? Everybody makes mistakes, and I'm sure he's been suffering the consequences of his mistake all his life. And I can't help but feel that he's been regretting what he'd done so much that he had actually decided to start punishing himself, and that's why I think he's been teaching at Hogwarts for so long - as punishment. Because it's obvious that he hates the job, even though he tries to give it his best, and that he would much rather be doing something else.  
  
And now ... now he's risking his life by becoming a spy - in my opinion another attempt to erase his past mistakes. Oh my god, I just hope he doesn't get killed, because that'd be the end of me, too."  
  
"I'm sure you'd find somebody else to love sooner or later," said Jane soothingly. "With that pretty face of yours, it shouldn't be too hard to find yourself a boyfriend. Anyway, let's change the subject. Have you two been thinking about what you want to do after school yet?"  
  
Hermione responded instantly. "I want to become a Healer. I know, it's a very responsible job, and you have to do really well at school - I think you need to get at least 'E' at NEWT level in about five different subjects, but I simply *love* challenges, and that's exactly what it will be for me - another challenge."  
  
Elizabeth, who would've been more than happy to discuss Snape for the rest of the journey, even despite Jane's obvious disinterest in the subject, couldn't resist and had to join the debate.  
  
"Do you believe I haven't considered my future career yet? What I do know, though, is that I love Hogwarts so much I'd never leave the place if I didn't have to. It's like a second home to me."  
  
"Perhaps you could become a teacher, then," Hermione suggested.  
  
Elizabeth's face lit up. "That's a great idea, Hermione!" she exclaimed, but her expression immediately changed into a frown as she realized something. "There's one slight problem, though. What will I teach? Do you think any of the teachers'll retire by the time I graduate?"  
  
"Well, Flitwick's quite old ... as is Professor McGonagall ... and Mrs. Figg..."  
  
"It could be any of them, then, couldn't it?" Elizabeth cut in. "Tell me, Hermione, what are the five NEWT classes you are going to take ... the ones you need to become a Healer? Because I think it'd be best if I just took the same ones as you, or most of them, anyway, at least we'd be together and I'd also have two more years to decide which of these subjects I would most likely be able to teach."  
  
"Yes, I'd say that's a good idea," said Hermione. "Now let me think ... if I remember correctly, then the five subjects I'll need are Potions, Herbology, Transfiguration, Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts. So ... which ones'll you choose?"  
  
"Transfiguration, Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts, I think. I don't want to do Herbology, I don't really like it ... besides, Professor Sprout doesn't look like she's about to retire, anyway. And I definitely *don't* want to do Potions, not with that idiot Fletcher teaching them. But then again, if Snape was to return, I'd-"  
  
"Ahem," said Jane and gave Elizabeth such a disgusted look that the Ravenclaw immediately decided to change the subject, suddenly realizing that she hadn't, in fact, heard Jane's plans for the future yet.  
  
"Oh, Jane, I'm *so* sorry," she quickly apologized. "I got so excited about the idea of becoming a teacher that I forgot all about you. So ... what do *you* want to do when you finish school?"  
  
"I'd like to work in Muggle relations," Jane answered readily. "All you need is an OWL in Muggle Studies, which should be a piece of cake, I reckon, with my being Muggle-born and everything. And I'll probably take the NEWT class, too, even though I won't really need it."  
  
"You mean you aren't going to take any other NEWT classes, just the one?" asked Hermione in disbelief.  
  
"Well, I, unlike you, don't think studying is the most important thing in the world, because I actually like to have some free time every now and then, but don't worry, I'll probably make an attempt to get into the Defence Against the Dark Arts NEWT class as well, and maybe even the Transfiguration one."  
  
Hermione still didn't look too satisfied, but Elizabeth said: "That'd be cool if you made it, then there'd be at least *some* NEWT classes where we would be together. Because I don't intend to take the Muggle Studies one, I think it's a waste of time. I'll probably try and get into the History of Magic one instead."  
  
"Yeah, I considered taking that one as well, but then I decided that five subjects would be more than enough," said Hermione, rising from her seat. "Well, I hate to leave you, but I promised Harry and Ron to help them with their Transfiguration homework. Oh, and speaking of Transfiguration, I've decided to start taking Animagi lessons this semester. Would you two like to join me?"  
  
"Animagi lessons?" asked Jane, puzzled.  
  
"It means learning to turn yourself into an animal," Elizabeth enlightened her. "I'd love to, Hermione, just tell me when and where as soon as you find out, O.K.?"  
  
"I think I'll give it a miss, thanks," said Jane. "The OWLs will take up enough of my time as it is. So maybe next year."  
  
"That's exactly what Harry and Ron told me," Hermione muttered. "Well, anyway, I really have to go, they'll probably be all nervous by now. See you at Hogwarts!"  
  
And before either of the girls could react, she was gone. Jane just stared after her for a while, but then she shrugged, shifted herself into a more comfortable position and proceeded to give Elizabeth a more detailed account of her country Christmas. But even though Elizabeth was doing her very best to pay attention, it was of no use: her mind simply kept on wandering off all the time, mostly to Hogwarts and a certain seat at the teachers' table. After a while she just gave up, fished 'Hogwarts: A History' out of her bag and excused herself by telling Jane that she needed to study. And that's how she spent the rest of the journey - hidden behind a book, immersed in her little dreamland which featured only one person - Snape.  
  
***  
  
When the train finally arrived at the station, it was already dark. Elizabeth had managed to be one of the first people to get off the train, and dragging her luggage behind her, she quickly headed towards the horseless carriages, intending to find an empty one as fast as possible. She did so soon enough, and a few seconds later, she was joined by a panting Jane, who had a slightly bigger amount of luggage than her, and also Hermione, who had grumpily announced that her two Gryffindor friends were yet again absorbed in a debate about Quidditch - an activity she would gladly give a miss.  
  
After what seemed like an eternity to Elizabeth, the carriages slowly started moving, and another eternity later, they finally came to a halt outside the open front doors of the Hogwarts castle.  
  
Elizabeth didn't wait for anyone or anything, because all that was on her mind at that moment was to get to the Great Hall as quickly as she possibly could. Throwing the carriage door open, she took off at the speed of light, flew through the gate, dumped her luggage in the Entrance Hall where it was to be collected by the house-elves, and virtually removed the double doors leading to the Great Hall off their hinges as she came through them at rocket speed. As soon as she was inside, she frantically searched the High table for any sign of the familiar black robes, but with no result - Snape's seat was empty.  
  
'Maybe he's just not here yet, it's still early,' she told herself as she, more slowly this time, made her way towards her usual seat at the front of the Ravenclaw table. 'McGonagall's not here, either, so don't panic, there's still a chance that...'  
  
But Elizabeth never got to finish her thought, because at that moment, Professor Fletcher marched into the Great Hall, and greeting his fellow colleagues in his annoying, high-pitched voice, he dropped down into Snape's seat, crushing all of Elizabeth's hopes the same way a beetle gets crushed when a malicious child decides to give its life an early end. She couldn't run away from reality - Snape was still gone.  
  
A/N: Thank you, thank you for your lovely reviews, I never thought I'd get such an immediate response to my little request. I just hope you don't leave it there, so please - keep those reviews coming!  
  
Lieutenant Vulcan: Your review meant a lot to me, no matter what you say, because if you didn't tell me, how would I know there's somebody out there who's enjoying the story? I'm not planning to abandon it, I might take a break from it sometimes, but I hope to finish it eventually (by the end of September, if everything goes well). Anyway, thank you!  
  
Keltic Rave: I'm glad you like the story, I'd never call it original, though (well, maybe except for the Christmas bit), since I've a feeling everything I've written has already been done a thousand times before, but if you think so... Well, anyway, here's the new chappie, hope you enjoy it as much as the rest.  
  
Misao: Thank you sooo much, you really got my soft spot with that comment about my English. But you're right, even I've read some stories with absolutely apalling spelling and grammar, but despite that, I still think these people's vocab was better than mine. I just have this feeling that my English is too simple...  
  
Sony: Don't worry, Snape'll return soon, hopefully in the next chapter. I also can't wait to have him back, because I absolutely *love* writing his character. But there is a reason for his being gone - it got Elizabeth to think about her feelings for him, otherwise she'd probably never have discovered that she actually loves him. Oh, and about the big age difference, I had to make Elizabeth a student (like me), because I'm sure I couldn't identify myself with a teacher (I've read a few romance fics featuring Snape and a grown-up woman and it just wasn't right, that's why I now read just the ones with Snape and Hermione). And when I write, I have to feel with the character, otherwise it wouldn't work for me. But I reckon that in the wizarding world, a 23-year age difference is nothing, not when they get older, anyway. Dumbledore's 150, after all, and he can still have a perfectly good relationship with McGonagall, who's 70, I think.  
  
So once again, thank you, and I hope you liked Elizabeth's one-paragraph summary of Snape in this chapter, because that's exactly how I feel about him. But - I'm a realist, and as such don't expect Snape to become a completely different man when he falls in love, because that just doesn't happen. He might change a bit, yes, but he'll still be far from ideal. But then, who is? 


	11. The Animagi lessons

Chapter 11  
  
The Animagi lessons  
  
Even though all the teachers had started handing out unbelievable amounts of homework right from the very first day of the new term, reacting to every protest with a sweet smile and an assurance that the topic of the four-foot essay they had just given them was bound to come up at the OWLs, it still didn't stop Elizabeth from falling into a deep depression every now and then, even if it happened to be in the middle of a lesson (but since it was usually Potions where this horrible feeling overcame her, when she had to watch Fletcher melting cauldrons for an entire hour and a half, it was quite understandable). She had been so sure Snape'd be back after Christmas that it was like getting slapped across the face when she was proved wrong. And even though both Jane and Hermione were doing everything they could to cheer her up, it usually didn't have much effect. It was only when Hermione had announced that their Animagi lessons would begin the following evening that her mood improved a little - finally, here was something she could look forward to ... something to take her mind off Snape for a while. And so with this occupying her brain for the next day and a half, time seemed to pass much more quickly, and suddenly the eagerly awaited evening was here, along with the first Animagi lesson.  
  
"Hermione, who gets to decide what animal you're going to change into?" Elizabeth asked as she and the Gryffindor walked in the direction of the Transfiguration classroom.  
  
"It's your choice," Hermione replied brightly. "But I think it's best if you pick you favourite animal, I've read it makes the transformation easier."  
  
"That's O.K. with me," said Elizabeth cheerfully. "My animal's a cat."  
  
"Really? So's mine! I think McGonagall's going to be pleased."  
  
"Yeah, probably. How many other people'll be there, anyway?"  
  
"I have no idea. But we're almost there, so... Oh, *no*! Not *him*!"  
  
They had just rounded a corner and the classroom door came into view. Elizabeth squinted to see what had made Hermione react in such a way, and it didn't take long before she noticed a pale, blond boy leaning leisurely against the stone wall outside the classroom - Draco Malfoy.  
  
He saw them almost as soon as they saw him, and immediately he started making his way towards them, his face reflecting an expression of deepest disgust.  
  
"Well, well, well, what have we here?" he asked when he reached them, using the most irritating voice he was capable of producing. "The two little Mudbloods, attempting to become Animagi. I can't wait to see what your animals'll be ... something utterly disgusting, I'm sure. How about a Blast- Ended Skrewt for you, Granger, just to make that overgrown friend of yours happy?"  
  
"Don't listen to him, Hermione, he's not worth it," said Elizabeth and pulled her friend towards the classroom and away from Malfoy. The Slytherin, however, didn't seem satisfied with the result his nasty comments had produced, for he followed them, continuing to insult Hermione as he went.  
  
"But I think it's more likely that you'll fail to perform the transformation altogether, and just stay your old, ugly self forever more. Because, Granger, this is not something you can learn off by heart from a book, *this* needs *talent*. But, of course, that's not something Mudbloods like you would be familiar with."  
  
They had reached the classroom door by then, and since there was nowhere else to go without making it look like an escape, Elizabeth decided to attack.  
  
"I think he fancies you, Hermione," she said, loud enough for Malfoy to hear. "But because he's such a stupid git, he doesn't know a better way of showing it other than insulting you."  
  
Malfoy's pale cheeks turned a light shade of pink. "I don't-" he started, but just then, Professor McGonagall arrived (closely followed by what looked to be the last member of their little Animagi class - the Hufflepuff prefect, Ernie Macmillan), leaving Malfoy no time to finish his defence.  
  
When the Head of Gryffindor let them into the classroom, Elizabeth noticed most of the desks and chairs had been moved off to the sides, leaving a large, furniture-free area in the middle of the room.  
  
"Welcome to your first Animagi lesson," said Professor McGonagall as soon as they took their seats at the few desks remaining in the front of the classroom (Elizabeth and Hermione shared the same desk, but Malfoy had strictly refused to sit with the Hufflepuff boy and shuffled off to the other side of the room instead, as far away from the rest of the students as he possibly could). "It seems that this year's class will consist of prefects only - well, at least there'll be no need to write you notes explaining why you're out in the corridors at such a late hour. Now - just to let you know what you're getting yourselves into by joining this class: we will meet twice a week, Tuesdays and Thursdays, the lessons will start at 8:15 and finish at nine o'clock, and if everything goes well, then by this time next year you should all be ready to get your licences. But - becoming an Animagus is not as easy as some of you might think, it requires a tremendous amount of concentration and patience, and also a fair bit of talent, so it might happen that some of you will end up leaving this class ... because you'll discover you're just not up to it." (At this point, Malfoy threw a meaningful glare in Hermione's direction). "Hopefully, though, everything'll come along fine, which means that sooner or later you'll all be able to not only transform into your desired animal, but also stay in your Animagus form for an unlimited period of time. So ... now I'd like all of you to tell me which animal you've chosen for your transformation; it doesn't necessarily have to be your favourite animal, but it is proved that it really does make the change easier. We'll start with Miss Granger."  
  
"A cat," said Hermione with a smile.  
  
Professor McGonagall didn't smile, but she did look pleased. "All right ... Miss Woodhouse?"  
  
"Also a cat."  
  
"Hmmm, interesting," McGonagall remarked, her expression growing even more satisfied. "Mr. Macmillan?"  
  
"An owl."  
  
"And Mr. Malfoy?"  
  
"A snake."  
  
"Who would've thought?" Elizabeth whispered in Hermione's ear, and both girls gave a quiet laugh.  
  
"O.K. Now, it is obvious that you won't be attempting the whole transformation at once, so today your aim will be to just concentrate on one of your hands. You can remain in your seats, you can stand up, you can go and lie on the floor - whichever position you feel the most comfortable in. You may go and take your places now."  
  
Elizabeth chose to stay in her seat, as did Hermione and Ernie, but Malfoy rose, walked over to the space in the middle of the room and threw himself down on the floor.  
  
Professor McGonagall pretended not to notice Malfoy's obvious attempt to draw attention to himself and simply went on: "Right. Now I'd like all of you to concentrate on your hand, concentrate with every single particle of your body, and try to imagine your chosen animal. Hopefully, in a few minutes, you'll be able to see the first signs of fur, feathers, or, in Mr. Malfoy's case, scales, appearing somewhere on your skin. All right, you may begin."  
  
Elizabeth looked down at her hand and forced herself to picture her neighbours' black and white cat, Mitzy, which she often went over to play with when she was at home, since her parents had never allowed her to have a cat of her own. She tried to imagine every detail of the creature's paw - its soft white fur, its sharp, pull-out claws, its... And suddenly, she wasn't imagining it anymore ... she was looking at it; for her nails were no longer nails ... they were claws; and some of the light blond hair usually covering her arm was also gone, only to be replaced by a patch of thick, cat-like fur.  
  
"Hey, Elizabeth, how did you do that?" asked Hermione, who had stopped gazing at her own hand to look at Elizabeth's.  
  
"I don't know. I just followed McGonagall's instructions," Elizabeth replied, but by doing this, she had momentarily ceased to concentrate on her hand, causing it to immediately resume its usual appearance.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry!" Hermione exclaimed when she saw this. "I really didn't mean to break your concentration."  
  
"It's O.K.," Elizabeth assured her and shifted her attention back to her hand. It wasn't long before it resembled a cat's paw once more, and Elizabeth was sure that it had taken even less time than before for her to do it, not to mention the fact that the amount of fur was now definitely bigger.  
  
After a while she was beginning to feel rather dizzy, so she tore her attention away from her hand, only then noticing that in the meantime Professor McGonagall had come over, and was now standing in front of her desk, looking very impressed.  
  
"Excellent, Miss Woodhouse, excellent," she said when she saw Elizabeth eyeing her expectantly. "Your ability to concentrate is exceptional. If you keep this up, you'll be ready to get your licence by the end of the school year."  
  
And having said that, she turned her attention towards Hermione, who had by now also managed to get parts of her hand covered in orange fur.  
  
"Also very good, Miss Granger. With a bit of practice, you too might leave this class at the end of the year."  
  
The rest of the lesson then went on in much the same way. Elizabeth was feeling terribly tired by the end of it, and she also had a slight headache, but at least during her last few attempts she had managed to make her hand look almost exactly like Mitzy's white paw. When she looked around, however, she noticed the others weren't nearly as successful as she was. To her great amusement, Malfoy wasn't any closer to growing scales than he was at the beginning of the lesson; his pale hand still remaining nothing more and nothing less than a pale hand. Elizabeth was sure this was due to his lack of concentration, for she had a feeling he was the kind that couldn't concentrate on anything for more than a few seconds, and not even his comfortable position on the floor had the power to save him. Ernie, though, wasn't looking much better, but at least he was able to sprout a feather or two every now and then.  
  
"Don't forget to practise!" Professor McGonagall called just before they left the classroom. "And this goes especially for you, Mr. Malfoy, I'd like to see some improvement next time!"  
  
Elizabeth couldn't resist; once they were out the door, she caught up with the Slytherin, and when she'd made sure Hermione was also listening (but not McGonagall), she put on a perfect imitation of Malfoy's annoying voice and said: "Hey, pure-blood! Was it just my imagination or did you really say something about needing talent for this class? Ah, but perhaps you just couldn't concentrate, since your mind kept on wandering off to a certain Mudblood..."  
  
Malfoy had gone as red as a carrot. "You'll pay for this, Woodhouse," he said quietly. "Just you wait and see."  
  
And he stalked off, leaving the two girls, who were now laughing so hard they didn't even notice, far behind.  
  
"Bullies. They're all the same," Elizabeth said when she'd finally calmed down. "Use their own weapons against them and they're harmless."  
  
Hermione wiped her eyes. "I must tell Harry and Ron about this. They'll probably never take Malfoy seriously again. But ... um ... he doesn't *really* fancy me, does he?"  
  
"Well, at first I only said it to upset him, but the way he reacted... I can't help it, Hermione, I think he *does* fancy you."  
  
"Oh," was all Hermione could say for a while, so the girls just continued walking in silence until she found her voice again. "Well, it is rather ... unexpected, I guess. Too bad he's such a spoiled prat, because otherwise... Elizabeth, what's wrong?"  
  
She had every reason to ask, for her friend had suddenly stopped dead in her tracks and was now staring fixedly into the darkness ahead.  
  
"Elizabeth! What's wrong?" Hermione repeated when she got no reaction.  
  
Finally, this seemed to have brought Elizabeth back to reality. "I'm sorry," she muttered. "I just thought I saw something, but it must've been only my imagination."  
  
"It didn't have to be. What did you see, Elizabeth?" Hermione demanded.  
  
"Nothing, honestly. I'm just being silly, that's all. And I'm probably tired, too; that Animagi lesson really took a lot out of me. Anyway, time to split now, I have to turn here ... unless you want me to sleep in Gryffindor Tower with you, of course."  
  
"You know I wouldn't mind, even though I'm quite sure it's not allowed. But I can see you need some time alone, so I won't keep you ... or force you to tell me something you obviously don't want to. Good night."  
  
Elizabeth gave her a weak smile. "Thanks, Hermione, you're a real friend. Good night to you too."  
  
And with a small nod, she set off down the deserted corridor leading to the Ravenclaw common room.  
  
Now that she was finally alone, she realized just how strange her behaviour must have seemed to her Gryffindor friend. However, she was still sure it was right not to tell her what she'd seen, because even though she knew Hermione wouldn't have laughed, she could still have thought Elizabeth was having hallucinations, and therefore should go and see Madam Pomfrey immediately. For what she had seen, or thought she had seen, was the all too familiar figure dressed in billowing black robes - her beloved Potions master, Severus Snape. And that simply couldn't have been anything more than a hallucination, because as far as she knew, Snape was gone, miles and miles away from Hogwarts, putting his life at stake to spy on Voldemort.  
  
'And I'm just so crazy about him I see him even when he's not there,' Elizabeth concluded and climbed through the portrait hole into the common room.  
  
***  
  
It's funny how time seems to practically fly when you need it the least. And in the months that followed, just when Elizabeth would've given anything for time to slow down a little, or maybe even stop every now and then, it went by at a particularly alarming speed, almost as if it had sprouted wings. The situation was getting more and more desperate, and even though Elizabeth had started studying for the OWLs shortly after Christmas, she now felt as though she had not only learnt nothing at all, but had also forgotten even the little she had managed to remember from the five years she had spent at Hogwarts. And when she pictured the enormous pile of books she hadn't even touched yet, she felt like shutting herself in the girls' toilet and never coming out.  
  
At first, she was determined to follow Hermione's example and attempt to get an OWL in every single subject, even the ones she had decided to drop next year, but as the OWLs drew nearer, her original intentions were slowly vanishing. After giving the matter some thought, she decided that the world wouldn't end if she didn't get an OWL in Divination, and so the Divination books and charts went sailing across the room and into her trunk. A few days passed and Divination was joined by Astronomy. Care of Magical Creatures was next, soon followed by Herbology and Muggle Studies. Elizabeth was feeling very *very* ashamed of herself by then, and Hermione's disapproving looks were only making her feel worse, so to keep everybody, including herself, at peace, she decided that apart from the four subjects she was hoping to make her NEWT subjects next year, she'd also scrape an OWL in Potions, even if it meant getting just an 'Acceptable'. Unfortunately, this resolution also didn't last long, for about three weeks before the OWLs, Elizabeth suddenly found herself throwing all the Potions books somewhere under her bed, realizing she was falling terribly behind with Transfiguration. She had long since given up any hope of Snape's return, and although she still thought about him almost constantly, she was determined to push him out of her head eventually, and try to find herself a proper boyfriend instead.  
  
The only thing that seemed to be going well were her Animagi lessons. To her great satisfaction, she was now able to change almost completely into an exact copy of her neighbours' cat (the only thing still missing was a tail), and Professor McGonagall kept assuring her that after the OWLs she could go and get her licence straight away.  
  
Hermione was also doing well, as was Ernie, who had finally managed to grow enough feathers to be able to take off, but Malfoy still looked hopeless. The only thing he had achieved (to the amusement of the whole class, including Professor McGonagall) was to get his tongue to look like a fat pink fork, and emit hissing noises at the same time. Elizabeth thought he would then at least come up with some sort of revenge for her continuous teasing, but none ever came.  
  
***  
  
Exactly two weeks before the beginning of the OWLs, Elizabeth received a note from Professor Flitwick, telling her to come to his office twenty minutes before the end of her Care of Magical Creatures lesson to discuss her future career. Elizabeth happily obeyed; not only would she miss the end of one of her less favourite lessons, but maybe Flitwick could also tell her which teacher was the most likely to retire.  
  
When she reached his office, the Head of Ravenclaw was already waiting for her.  
  
"Sit down, Miss Woodhouse, sit down," he chirped and pointed to a chair opposite his own. "Would you like some tea?"  
  
"No, thank you," Elizabeth declined, eager to get on with the conversation.  
  
Finally, Flitwick sat down in his unusually high chair and, clasping his hands in front of him, started speaking.  
  
"So ... I'm sure you've already thought about what you'd like to do after you finish this school, but perhaps you still haven't quite made up your mind, or maybe you might have some questions concerning a particular career, so please, feel free to ask and I'll try to help you as much as I can."  
  
Elizabeth cleared her throat. "Well, I think I already know what I want to do - I'd like to become a teacher and hopefully teach here at Hogwarts sometime in the future. What I don't know, though, is which subject I would like to teach. I don't really care, I'd be happy with practically anything, I just don't want to leave Hogwarts. Do you know if any of the teachers here are considering retirement?"  
  
"Not that I know of, no. It might change during the next two years, of course, but it would still be good if you had at least some sort of idea of where you're heading; you need to choose your NEWT subjects for next year, after all."  
  
"Oh, I've already chosen those," Elizabeth said quickly. "I'd like to do Transfiguration, Charms -" (Professor Flitwick looked *very* pleased to hear this) "- Defence Against the Dark Arts and History of Magic."  
  
"Very good, but you have to know that before you become a fully qualified teacher, you need to spend two years as a teacher's assistant, so perhaps from now on you should start concentrating on one particular area just a little bit more. Which is your favourite subject?"  
  
"Well, it used to be Potions..."  
  
"Used to be?" Flitwick cut in. "Why not anymore? I noticed you didn't even pick it as one of your NEWT subjects."  
  
"It's because of Professor Fletcher," Elizabeth explained. "I know I shouldn't be criticising a teacher, but honestly, I think even Lockhart was better than him."  
  
Professor Flitwick couldn't help but give a small chuckle. "Yes, now that you mention it, I've heard one of the seventh-years using a similar comparison. Unfortunately, there's nothing that can be done about that; nobody else is available for the job."  
  
Elizabeth seized her chance and asked, trying to make the question sound as casual as possible: "Isn't Professor Snape coming back?"  
  
"I don't think so, or at least not in the nearest future."  
  
"Well, then I'm definitely not doing Potions," Elizabeth said resolutely, hoping her disappointment wasn't too obvious. "I think I'll concentrate on History of Magic, because that's my favourite subject now, I suppose."  
  
Flitwick looked surprised. "History of Magic?" he repeated. "Well, that's an ... unusual choice; I can't remember hearing anyone call *this* subject their favourite before. And Potions ... also very interesting..."  
  
Just then, the bell rang, meaning Elizabeth had about ten minutes to get down to the greenhouses for Herbology.  
  
"Um, Professor?" she asked gingerly. "Can I go now? I don't want to be late for my next lesson, you see."  
  
"Oh, but of course, of course," Flitwick said apologetically and jumped down from his chair to show Elizabeth to the door. "Shall I write you a note for Professor ... who do you have?"  
  
"Professor Sprout... but thank you, I don't think it'll be necessary. I can still make it on time."  
  
"O.K., well... goodbye then, Miss Woodhouse, and have a nice day!"  
  
"You too, Professor, and thank you for your advice!" said Elizabeth and, giving her teacher a grateful smile, left the office.  
  
As soon as she was out in the corridor, she quickened her pace, and practically flew down the flight of stairs leading down to the Entrance Hall, almost knocking somebody over in the process.  
  
"Hey, watch out!" the person called after her, and when she turned around to apologize, she saw it was one of Hermione's Gryffindor friends, Ron Weasley: accompanied by Harry Potter, Hermione herself, and also a very depressed-looking Neville Longbottom.  
  
"Sorry, Ron, I didn't see you," she muttered before quickly turning her attention to her friend and asking: "What happened to Neville, Hermione? He looks like he'd been crying."  
  
"That's because Professor Sprout had yelled at him this morning," Hermione told her, making sure the boy in question was out of earshot. "It was terrible, and it took me nearly half an hour to calm him down afterwards. I thought he'd never stop crying. Anyway, I'll tell you all about it at lunchtime, O.K.?"  
  
"Yeah, all right. See ya!" Elizabeth said before breaking into a run again. Because if Professor Sprout was in a foul mood today, the last thing she wanted to do was to come late and allow herself to be yelled at like Neville.  
  
In the end she had managed to reach the greenhouses together with her teacher, who, it seemed, was indeed far from her usual cheerful self. She didn't even answer when Elizabeth had tried to bid her good day, and during the actual lesson she strongly resembled a female version of Snape: she was edgy, snappy, and took off points even for the tiniest mistakes. Never in her life had Elizabeth been so happy for Herbology to end; it was like a dream come true when the bell had finally rung, and therefore it wasn't too surprising that in her frantic attempt to get out of the greenhouse and into the Great Hall as soon as possible she had nearly managed to trip Malfoy who was blocking the doorway.  
  
When she finally did make it to the Gryffindor table, with Jane hot on her heels, Hermione was already waiting for them.  
  
"Hurry up, sit down before anyone notices you're not sitting at your own table," she urged, throwing anxious glances towards the teachers.  
  
"I don't think it really matters during lunchtime," Jane said, but then decided to take Hermione's advice anyway, just in case.  
  
"So ... what did Neville do to make Sprout so angry?" Elizabeth asked as she filled her plate with roast chicken.  
  
"Well, we were revising how to re-pot mandrakes today," Hermione explained. "And Neville must've been given a really nasty one, because I'm sure he had done everything right, he's one of the best in Herbology, after all... Well, anyway, what happened was that after nearly everybody had taken off their earmuffs, Neville's mandrake started to cry. It must've thrown some of the compost out or something, since I really can't imagine how else it could have managed to free its mouth from all the earth Neville had stuffed into the pot. All I can say is that what followed was terrible, because before Professor Sprout finally succeeded in getting the mandrake under control, half of the class had fainted. They're still in the hospital wing now. Anyway, Professor Sprout then went absolutely mad: she told Neville what a complete idiot he is, that he'll never manage an OWL in Herbology, let alone get into the NEWT class ... and many other unpleasant things. Neville looked like he, too, would faint by the time she had finished, and it really was almost impossible to calm him down afterwards."  
  
"That was so horribly unfair!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "Poor Neville!"  
  
"Yes, poor Neville," Hermione agreed. "He had never had much self- confidence, but after this..."  
  
"I hate to interrupt," Jane cut in, "but there's only ten minutes left until the beginning of Potions. I really think we should get going."  
  
"Oh, Jane, I don't know what I'd do without you," Elizabeth said warmly and jumped to her feet. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go! Bye, Hermione!"  
  
And she rushed off in the direction of the dungeons. Jane gave Hermione a questioning look, but eventually took off as well.  
  
"What are you so happy about?" she asked when she had finally caught up with her friend. "We have Potions now, with Fletcher, remember?"  
  
"Yes, and that's why I'm so happy. I'll only have to survive two more lessons with him. Two more - and I'll never have to set foot in his classroom again! Isn't that great?"  
  
"Yeah, whatever," Jane muttered, not really sharing her friend's enthusiasm. "I don't think he's so bad, actually. I might even miss him."  
  
"Oh, Jane, you're just teasing me, aren't you?" Elizabeth asked, but at that moment, they had reached the classroom door, so she didn't have a chance to press the point any further.  
  
For once, the lesson seemed a little more enjoyable, because whenever Fletcher spilled something, burnt something, melted a cauldron or gave an inadequate explanation (which happened to be almost all the time), Elizabeth simply chanted 'just one more time, just one more time, just one more time' and immediately felt a lot better. For one brief moment, she had actually gone as far as considering whether she, too, wouldn't miss his amusing teaching style, but she quickly scolded herself for even daring to come up with such an outrageous idea, again concentrating on her magical 'just one more time' formula instead.  
  
Before she realized it, the lesson was over, and she found herself walking out of the dungeon classroom with an enormous grin stuck to her face.  
  
"Just one more week," she told Jane happily. "After that there'll be no more Fletcher."  
  
***  
  
The one week, though, turned out to be probably the shortest week of her life, because while she was desperately trying to fill her head with information from about twenty different books (not to mention the countless hours she had spent actually practising the spells), days seemed to pass like hours, hours like minutes and minutes like seconds. That's why she received quite a shock when Jane had assured her it was really Monday again, for she was entirely convinced she still had the whole weekend ahead of her. It left her in a foul mood for the rest of the morning, and she had only cheered up a little when she remembered that the Potions lesson she was just heading to would, in fact, be the last one of her life. And she had to admit she was maybe even looking forward to it.  
  
But when she and Jane reached the dungeons, Elizabeth experienced such a shock that what Jane had told her in the morning seemed like a weather statement compared to the madness she had to undergo now. For it wasn't Professor Fletcher who had let them into the classroom this time ... it was Snape.  
  
A/N 1: Again I'd like to thank you for your beautiful reviews; when I first started writing this story, it was only for my own pleasure, but now a big, big part of it is also for you - my faithful readers.  
  
Beeker: Be prepared for a good fight from my side, I don't give up so easily. Unfortunately, we'd have to face a huge crowd of other girls as well. Maybe it would be fair if we'd just let Severus choose... No, that's not a good idea. He wouldn't choose anyone, and anyway, I want him for myself.  
  
Dragon Faere: Really? In real life or in the fantasy world? Because it definitely wasn't in the HP books, or in any other fics I've read. How does it work, anyway? Oh, and my parchment wasn't really supposed to be used for sorting out crushes, it was meant to be only for fun, it's just that Elizabeth used it the way she did.  
  
Kat-tak: Thank you, I'm sooo glad like it. I will definitely continue - here you have another chapter as proof.  
  
Tania Nightqueen: I'm so happy you like my Hermione! I really love the girl in the books, so I decided it'd be good to put her in my story. I think she needed another girl to talk to, because even though Harry and Ron are good friends, they're still only boys. She might seem a bit OOC later on (if she doesn't already), but that's how I'd like her to become, and now that I've read the fifth book, I realized she really does seem to be heading that way. Maybe I'll replace Trelawney as the Divination teacher. Anyway, thank you for your lovely review!  
  
A/N 2: Wow, I think this is the longest chapter I've written so far, and believe me, I'm drained. I did love writing Draco, though, he's so predictable and therefore so easy to keep in character. Anyway, just to give you something to look forward to - I promise that the next chapter'll have lots of Snape in it. But you'll have to wait a little - I really want to take my time with this one, and I'm also going away for three days, although I'll try to write something even then.  
  
Anyway, aren't you all happy to have Snape back? I am. And Elizabeth is. And...  
  
Guess who's back, back again/Snape is back, tell a friend/Guess who's back, guess who's back, guess who's back ... I really do need a break from this story. 


	12. Snape's return

Chapter 12  
  
Snape's return  
  
At first Elizabeth thought it was just another hallucination, because when she looked again, the doorway was empty, but when she dazedly entered the classroom and glanced towards the blackboard, she knew at once that this time, her eyes hadn't deceived her. For it was indeed Snape who was standing next to the teacher's desk, drumming his fingers impatiently on its wooden surface and wearing his usual scowl.  
  
Elizabeth was sure she'd never make it to her seat considering the way she was feeling: her heart was beating so fast it looked as though it was trying to set a world record, her breath came out in small gasps, her stomach was doing flip-flops, her hands were shaking ... and above all this, the wonderful realization was slowly beginning to sink in; that what she had been wishing for for nearly half a year now had finally come true ... that Snape had returned.  
  
Eventually, Jane had to nudge her friend in the ribs to get her to move, and several more nudges and kicks later, Elizabeth had finally managed to sink down into her seat.  
  
Now she could finally stare at Snape undisturbed. He looked just the same as she had remembered him: a man with a hooked nose, sallow skin, black, shoulder-length hair (O.K., it did look greasy ... so what?), wearing his usual midnight robes and also a thoroughly annoyed expression. But what attracted Elizabeth the most were his eyes: so dark, so beautiful, and yet ... so cold.  
  
"Settle down," Snape finally said, snapping Elizabeth back to reality and causing the whole class to fall silent immediately. "Now, I'm quite sure you dunderheads haven't learnt practically anything during the time of my absence, although I most certainly don't find that a sufficient reason for you to fail your Potions OWL. And let me also inform you that I still won't accept anything less than an 'Outstanding' from those of you who wish to attend my NEWT class. Therefore, I have decided to make this lesson a revision one; I will use the first half of it to ask you the questions that are known to have frequently appeared at the OWLs in the past, while the second half shall then be wasted by your miserable attempts to create the Draught of Peace - also, very probable to come up at your OWLs.  
  
Now, as for the questions, we shall start at the back of the class with Miss Abbott. If she doesn't give me the correct answer, she loses her house one point and we move on to the next person, still with the same question. And it will continue until one of you gets it right ... then there'll be a new question. If none of you manage to give me a satisfactory answer, it becomes homework. And one last thing: if you think you know an answer to a question and it's not your turn to speak, you may, of course, raise your hand. Now-"  
  
"Um, Professor?" Ernie Macmillan asked tentatively. "If we get an answer right, don't we *receive* any points?"  
  
Snape looked at him as if he'd just asked if one and one is two.  
  
"No, of course not," he said testily. "With a week to go until the OWLs, it is expected of you to provide me with the correct answer, and by now you could've realized I most certainly *do not* give points for every silly little bit of information you happen to throw at me. Now - first question. Which ingredients would you use to create a potion to cure boils?"  
  
"Dried nettles, crushed snake fangs and porcupine quills," Hannah blurted out.  
  
"One point from Hufflepuff. What did she forget, Mr. Macmillan?"  
  
Since Elizabeth was sitting at the front of the classroom, and therefore was a long way away from being called out, she allowed herself to study Snape once more. Not that she hadn't been staring at him all lesson, but then she also had to pay attention to what he was saying, unlike now, when she could fully concentrate on other things - things that didn't have much to do with the lesson at all. Like the way he moved about the classroom - so silently and gracefully, almost like a cat advancing on its prey; or that beautiful, beautiful voice of his ... she had almost forgotten how heavenly it could be; or his handsome face (well, handsome probably wasn't exactly the right word to call it ... but it was certainly intriguing, and definitely not ugly, despite popular opinion), now devoid of any expression except utter indifference; but when Elizabeth surveyed the black depths of his eyes more closely, she was suddenly sure it was nothing more than a carefully guarded mask. Because what she saw in those eyes was as close to indifference as fire is to water; it was a huge palette of emotions ranging from anger mixed with frustration when a student failed to give the correct answer to immense satisfaction when somebody finally succeeded in getting something right. Simply speaking - it was obvious that despite pretending the exact opposite, Snape cared about his students, cared whether he'd managed to teach them something, and blamed himself for their mistakes because he thought he'd failed. But why did he try so hard to hide it? It was nothing to be ashamed of, after all ... no, far from it. So why did he pretend to be cold and indifferent (or worse - to find pleasure in pointing out what they did wrong ... yet again) when he wasn't? Why did he always disguise his emotions so well? Elizabeth, being the open person that she was, couldn't understand it; she never missed an opportunity to share everything that was on her mind with someone, and was convinced that Snape must suffer terribly by not being able to do the same. If only she could go up to him now, tell him how much she loved him and cared for him (how could she ever have thought she would be able to get him out of her head was beyond her), how she would always be there to listen to his worries... Getting this far, it took all of Elizabeth's strength to stop herself from just going out there and putting her arms around him for a long, tight hug; all the while whispering kind, reassuring words, caressing his cheek, running her hands through his black hair (grease or no grease) ... and then, finally, kissing him - kissing him with all her might ... deeply, passionately...  
  
"Miss Woodhouse!" said a cold voice, abruptly bringing Elizabeth from her little fantasy land back to the cruel world of reality. Only to make her discover that the object of her dreams was now standing in front of her, a rather unpleasant expression deforming his gaunt face.  
  
"I ... I'm sorry, sir," she stammered when she'd pulled herself together enough to speak, trying and failing to do something about her burning red cheeks. "I ... got lost in thought."  
  
"Well, perhaps a deduction of five points from your house will teach you to 'get lost in thought' outside my classroom next time. Now once more - can you tell me the uses of dragon blood in potion-making?"  
  
Elizabeth furiously searched her memory, knowing she'd definitely tried to get the answer to this exact question into her head only two weeks ago, but the result was catastrophic - she couldn't remember anything.  
  
Finally, she gave up and shook her head, feeling herself blush again.  
  
"*You* don't know, Miss Woodhouse?" Snape asked, not able to hide the hint of surprise in his voice. "That's another point you've lost your house, then. How about you, Miss Wells, do you happen to possess the answer to my question?"  
  
Jane also shook her head, but Elizabeth didn't pay it much attention. She was absolutely furious with herself, because for years she had succeeded in being perfect in front of Snape, only to ruin it all now ... now that it meant so much to her to make a good impression. For she was sure Snape could never love a dunderhead (and she definitely felt like one now); he needed someone to match his own intellect, his own brilliant mind; someone he could have a heated discussion with about a Potions article he'd just read, someone to argue with about the pros and cons of a newly discovered potion ... someone to make him happy. And at that moment, Elizabeth didn't think she looked like that someone at all.  
  
***  
  
Things didn't get much better as the lesson went on: Elizabeth was given another three questions, and to her utter disgust, she had barely managed to give a decent answer to one.  
  
Finally, though, the second part of the lesson arrived, with no more questions to answer and with a potion to make instead - at least something Elizabeth was convinced she was good at. Maybe she could actually make it until the end of the lesson without embarrassing herself even more. However, there *was* something still bothering her - Snape had now moved to the back of the classroom to keep an eye on Joshua and Jamie ... which meant Elizabeth had to turn around if she wanted to at least catch a glimpse of him.  
  
"Um, Elizabeth?" Jane whispered just as her friend was about to throw yet another look in Snape's direction. "I know you wouldn't take your eyes off him all lesson if you had the chance, but I really need your help with this potion. I don't think I can finish it on my own ... unless you want me to stuff it up completely, that is."  
  
"Awww, Jane, don't deny me my moment of happiness," Elizabeth moaned. "I am still helping you, just not as much as you're used to."  
  
"Besides," Jane continued, completely ignoring Elizabeth's protests, "I think you should control yourself a little more. If Snape sees you glancing at him every few seconds, what is he going to think? You might just as well have 'I love you, Professor' written on your forehead; it'd have the same effect."  
  
Now even Elizabeth had to admit her friend had a point there. "Yeah, well, I suppose-" she started, but immediately fell silent when she noticed the aforementioned Professor standing right in front of her, his famous twisted smile curling up his thin lips.  
  
A wave of dread, causing her to feel like someone had dropped an ice-pack down her back, swept over her. How much had he heard? If he had managed to catch Jane's 'I love you, Professor' comment, she might just as well commit suicide on the spot.  
  
It seemed like an eternity before he finally spoke.  
  
"I don't remember giving you two permission to speak," he drawled, clearly enjoying the look of utter terror on Elizabeth's face. "Ten points from Ravenclaw."  
  
And with that, he swiftly moved off to the back of the classroom again; just in time to prevent an imminent explosion, too, since Joshua and Jamie had managed to use his momentary inattention to add the wrong ingredient to their potion, causing it to turn a nasty shade of purple.  
  
Normally, Elizabeth would've been angry at herself for losing her house points, and she would've also felt bad about not being perfect in front of Snape for once, but she just didn't care about any of that now, because the only thing she could feel was immense relief ... relief that Snape most likely hadn't heard what she feared he could have. Unless he was keeping it to himself ... no, no, that was improbable; knowing him, she was sure he wouldn't have missed the opportunity to make some sarcastic comment about it.  
  
***  
  
In the end the lesson finished without any further incidents, and to Elizabeth's utmost delight, she and Jane had even managed to produce a perfect sample of the required potion.  
  
As they were cleaning away the ingredients and emptying the remaining contents of their cauldron, Elizabeth suddenly realized they were now the only ones left in the classroom, making it a wonderful opportunity to have a little chat with her beloved. She just couldn't resist, even though she knew she might regret it later, so she told Jane to run ahead and slowly approached Snape's desk, clutching the potion sample in her hand.  
  
She was trembling all over by the time she had reached him, but not even that could make her give up on what she was about to do. When she looked at him, however, suddenly noticing how very tired and vulnerable he seemed just then, her fear disappeared almost immediately, and was replaced by concern.  
  
"Sir, are you all right?" she asked softly, placing the vial with the Draught of Peace onto his desk. "You don't look very well."  
  
"Of course I'm all right, Miss Woodhouse," Snape answered irritably. "Although I'm not so sure about you; your behaviour has been rather ... strange today. For one thing - where has all your knowledge gone?"  
  
Elizabeth blushed (damn that reaction, she hated it so much!), but quickly pulled herself together and said: "Well, yes, I must admit that for the past two weeks I really didn't care one bit whether I knew anything about Potions or not, but that's going to change now." And then, without really being able to help it, she blurted out: "Oh, sir, I'm just so happy you're back, you wouldn't believe how much! Are ... are you staying or going away again?"  
  
It was obvious that this was probably the very first time a student had told Snape something like that, for he looked quite taken aback, and even took slightly longer than usual to answer.  
  
"I'm staying."  
  
"Oh, sir, that's great!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "Professor Fletcher was a nightmare, honestly!"  
  
"Five points from Ravenclaw for insulting a member of the staff, Miss Woodhouse," Snape said silkily. ('He's just so predictable,' Elizabeth thought with a snicker. 'Every time he feels uncomfortable, he simply starts taking points off.') "*Professor* Fletcher was assigned to the job by the Headmaster, who knew perfectly well what he was doing when he hired him."  
  
"I'm sorry, sir, I just got a bit carried away," Elizabeth declared, trying hard not to laugh, as it was evident Snape felt the same way about Fletcher as she did, only it would've been improper of him to say so. "I promise not to ever speak ill of *Professor* (but try as she might, it didn't come out exactly as she had wanted it; it seemed Snape was the only one able to make the word sound like something filthy) Fletcher again. Well, anyway, I think I'll be off now, there's only five minutes left until my next lesson. Have a nice day, Professor."  
  
And even though she would've loved to talk to Snape for much *much* longer, she felt that for today she'd said just enough. So with a small smile and a nod she turned around and departed, leaving behind one very puzzled teacher with just enough sense left in him to mutter a soft "You too, Miss Woodhouse" in reply.  
  
A/N: Well, I never thought I'd be able to get this chapter out so quickly, but I was simply itching to start writing it, and once I finally got down to it, I just couldn't stop. Maybe the next chapter'll take longer, then, it'll be about the OWLs and I'm definitely not itching to write that.  
  
On another note: I only got one review for the last chapter - the really long one (for me, at least). So come on, people, I'm slowly becoming addicted to reviews, so please, don't let me suffer! (And don't worry about my becoming addicted even more, it's not like I was dependent on drugs or anything; this is a healthy addiction). I'd really really like you to comment this chapter (it's got Snape in it, after all), and if you don't know what to say, just tell me if you think Snape's in character.  
  
Anyway, a big thank you to LadyJavert, my only reviewer this time. I'd just like to say: I'm not evil, I just thought that chapter was long enough already, and I also wanted the next one to be purely Snapish, so that's why I cut it off where I did. But it seems you like the story, judging from your demand of the next chapter, so I hope I didn't disappoint you (you can tell me in another review, if you like!).  
  
P.S. Today I heard on the news that Eminem is a huge fan of Harry Potter, and that he would very much like an autograph from Rowling. I thought it was really hilarious; it just somehow doesn't go with Eminem, but it made me like him even more, nevertheless. 


	13. OWLs

Chapter 13  
  
OWLs  
  
After a long run from the dungeons to one of the upper floors of the Hogwarts castle, Elizabeth was completely out of breath, but at least she had managed to reach the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom in time; Mrs. Figg wasn't even there yet. Panting, she dropped down into her seat between Jane and Hermione, and while quickly pulling her things out of her bag, she excitedly began to tell the Gryffindor about her recent experience with Snape. She had barely got to the scare the Potions master had given her before deducting points for the second time when Mrs. Figg marched in, but Elizabeth was too eager to get on with the story to pay her teacher much attention; she merely lowered her voice and went on. At first, it seemed as though Mrs. Figg didn't care (or perhaps, being the old lady that she was, she just couldn't hear the quiet chattering; Elizabeth didn't know), for she happily took the register and then started the lesson without giving the blond witch a single glance, but when Elizabeth reached the point in her story where she had told Snape how glad she was to see him, and described the awkward pause that followed while Snape was trying to sort her words out, making Hermione (as well as Jane, who had by then also become interested in Elizabeth's narrative) burst into a not-so-silent set of giggles, she just couldn't overlook it any longer.  
  
"Girls," she said, giving all three of them a disapproving look. "If you haven't noticed yet, the lesson had already begun, and since it's the last one before your OWLs, I advise you to pay attention. Now, as I was saying..."  
  
But Elizabeth was no longer listening. The OWLs. She had almost forgotten about them during Potions, since her mind (as well as her eyes) was on Snape the whole time, but now...  
  
"Hermione," she whispered desperately, "you've got to help me! I'll do anything, absolutely anything ... I just want an 'Outstanding' in my Potions OWL."  
  
"Shouldn't you have thought about that before you quit studying Potions two weeks ago?" Hermione asked in a reproachful tone.  
  
"Er ... well ... yeah, but at that time I didn't know Snape'd come back, did I?"  
  
"I don't really think you should study something just because of the teacher, and not because of the subject itself ... because you enjoy it," opposed Hermione, but noticing Elizabeth's pleading look, she quickly added: "That doesn't mean I won't help you, of course I will, although I'm convinced even I would have a pretty tough time learning five years of Potions in a week ... but I'm sure we'll work something out, don't worry."  
  
"Thanks, Hermione! I knew I could count on you. I-"  
  
"Miss Woodhouse, you have been warned," said Mrs. Figg angrily. "Five points from Ravenclaw and come over here - I will test you."  
  
Elizabeth grudgingly rose from her seat and slowly made her way towards the front of the classroom. Mrs. Figg didn't wait for her and went on, this time turning to the whole class: "As I've said at least a hundred times this year - there is no counter-curse against the 'Avada Kedavra' Unforgivable; the only way to avoid it is to dodge it. Generally, dodging a spell isn't as effective as using a counter-spell, since it doesn't inflict any damage to your opponent, but at least it gives you a second or two to draw out your wand."  
  
And then, all of a sudden, she whipped out *her* wand, pointed it at Elizabeth's chest and shouted: "Stupefy!", causing a beam of red light to shoot out from its tip. But Elizabeth, even though she hadn't expected this at all, was quicker, and had managed to dodge her teacher's spell, take out her own wand and disarm Mrs. Figg with the 'Expelliarmus' - all at the same time and in less than two seconds.  
  
"Well done, Miss Woodhouse," said the old lady as she picked herself up from the floor. "That was an excellent example of dodging, and also a perfect display of fast reactions and quick thinking. Thank you, you may sit down."  
  
Elizabeth obeyed and, handing her teacher back her wand, hastily made her way through the rows of desks towards her seat.  
  
'It wouldn't have killed her to actually give me some *points* for my "excellent" performance,' she thought bitterly as she sank down into her chair.  
  
Almost as if she had read her thoughts, Mrs. Figg suddenly added: "And if you can manage to stay quiet for the rest of the lesson, I might even make Ravenclaw ten points richer by the time it ends. Now ... Mr. Weasley - I think your Quidditch discussion with Potter has lasted long enough, so if you'd like to come here and demonstrate the Shield Charm..."  
  
The remainder of the lesson then passed in similar fashion, with Mrs. Figg calling out the noisy students and asking them to show her and the class some spell or other. Elizabeth decided that the best way to keep herself from talking would be to bury herself in a book of some sort, which she immediately did, spreading her copy of 'Most Potente Potions' on the desk in front of her and attempting to memorize various brewing procedures right until the very end of the lesson. And by the time the bell finally rang, she had actually managed to learn as many as seven extremely difficult potions.  
  
"Miss Woodhouse!" Mrs. Figg called over the commotion as all the students were noisily filing out the door. "Since I haven't heard another word from you all lesson, Ravenclaw now receives ten points."  
  
"Thank you!" Elizabeth called back before being pushed by the crowd into the corridor outside.  
  
Hermione was already there and Elizabeth quickly joined her, closely followed by Jane, who had by then also succeeded in forcing her way through the classroom door.  
  
"So ... how do you expect me to help you with your studies?" Hermione asked. "I was thinking that perhaps I could work you out a timetable of some sort - something to give you an idea of how to organize your time this week. And if you follow it, there's a good chance you'll manage to learn most of the stuff you want."  
  
"That'd be wonderful!" beamed Elizabeth. "I'm absolutely terrible at organizing my time! But ... I'm sure you also need to study; won't it be too much trouble for you to do this extra work?"  
  
"No, of course not," Hermione assured her. "I do it for Harry and Ron all the time. Would it be all right if I gave you your timetable tomorrow morning at breakfast?"  
  
"Yeah, sure. I'll just continue studying 'Most Potente Potions' until then. And I think the sooner I start, the better, so I might just as well get down to it right now. See you at dinner!"  
  
And with that, Elizabeth disappeared in the direction of Ravenclaw Tower.  
  
***  
  
The last week left until the OWLs was over even faster than the one before it. Hermione had kept her promise and came up with a very large and very colourful timetable, but even though Elizabeth had tried her best to follow it, her attempts often ended in disaster. Mostly because she kept falling asleep far before the timetable allowed her to, later waking up to find herself slumped in one of the armchairs in the common room and aching all over, but sometimes the reason for being so badly behind Hermione's carefully prepared schedule was a lot more shameful: since instead of learning how to transfigure a spider into a hairpin, she used the precious time to fantasize about Snape. That's why when the fearfully awaited Day with a capital D made its much quicker than expected appearance, Elizabeth hadn't managed to learn nearly as much as she had intended to. And that's also why when she slowly walked down to the Great Hall for her first exam, Transfiguration, she looked much more like a prisoner on his way to the electric chair than a student about to write an OWL test.  
  
The Great Hall looked a little different than usual that day: the four house tables had been removed and replaced instead by a large number of tables for one. Elizabeth picked a seat right at the back of the Hall (as far from the teachers' table and the piercing eyes of Professor McGonagall as she possibly could); a seat which also happened to be right behind Hermione, who had promised to lean slightly over to the side and let Elizabeth copy some answers in case she'd be having too much trouble coming up with her own. And Elizabeth had agreed to do the same for Jane who was sitting on her right.  
  
"You may begin," said Professor McGonagall as soon as all the seats were occupied, and then went on to turn over a huge hour-glass standing on her desk.  
  
Elizabeth stared down at the paper which had magically appeared on the table in front of her.  
  
'Question one: Which incantation would you use to turn a turtle into a teapot?'  
  
'Eeeaasy,' thought Elizabeth cheerfully and wrote down the answer.  
  
'Question two: Describe what happens to an animal after using the Vera Vertum incantation on it.'  
  
Elizabeth couldn't help but grin. 'Oh, come *on*. If all the questions are going to be like this, I might even get full marks.'  
  
Obviously it wasn't to be; for as the test went on, the questions were getting more and more complicated, forcing Elizabeth to spend more and more time poring over the answers. But even as she reached the end of the last page, something was still telling her an 'Outstanding' Transfiguration OWL might not yet be completely out of the question. And she didn't even need Hermione's help; although there were times when she had to use all of her will to resist the temptation to look, but usually she had just figured the correct answer out on her own in the end, and those few questions that had remained unanswered she simply ignored, coming to the conclusion that a perfect test strongly resembling Hermione's would look rather suspicious, especially to somebody as experienced as Professor McGonagall.  
  
"End of test!" the aforementioned lady called as soon as the last grain of sand in the giant hour-glass fell through. "Please go outside for five minutes to give us time to return the Hall to its original state; then you may come back for lunch."  
  
Elizabeth made a dash for the double doors, and before all the students had started pushing and shoving themselves in order to get out into the Entrance Hall, she, Jane and Hermione were already standing in a quiet corner, heatedly discussing question nine b.  
  
"The cat changes into a handbag!" was Jane's opinion.  
  
"No, it doesn't," opposed Hermione, searching her bag for a copy of 'Transfiguring Animals' to prove it. "I'm absolutely sure it turns into a slipper ... and here you are, you can have a look for yourself." And she confidently shoved the book under Jane's nose.  
  
Jane gave it a thorough examination, but finally sighed and admitted her defeat. Just then, Harry and Ron suddenly appeared at Hermione's side, both wearing huge grins.  
  
"It's over!" Ron exclaimed. "Just the practical exam to go this afternoon, and then it's no more Transfiguration for the rest of the year!"  
  
"How can you be so happy?" Hermione asked incredulously. "There are still two weeks of OWLs left, and you look as though it was the last day of them! How did you do on your test, anyway? In question thirteen, did you say that- "  
  
"Hermione, we did fine!" Harry interrupted her. "But it's over, so why talk about it when we don't have to? Really, I'd rather have a chat with Malfoy over there!" And he jerked his head in the direction of the blond Slytherin standing only a few feet away from them, animatedly describing his successful attempt at cheating to his two overgrown companions, Crabbe and Goyle, who were laughing stupidly.  
  
"Anyway, it's time for lunch," said Ron, and immediately started making his way back towards the Great Hall. The others followed suit, unsuccessfully trying to keep up with the readheaded boy's hunger-powered pace.  
  
After a small break following lunch, Elizabeth was again back in the Great Hall; this time for the already mentioned practical exam. And once more, she did well: successfully managing to turn her toad into a perfect frying pan. Ron, though, who was being tested at the table on Elizabeth's left, was having a lot more trouble changing his rat into a plate: it still had a tail, ears and also legs, which it kept on using to run around in circles, escaping all of Ron's desperate attempts to rectify his mistake. Elizabeth smiled and made a mental note to once again thank Hermione for her timetable, since without it she'd never have known how useful practising ways of turning animals into kitchen utensils half an hour a day could prove. But apart from glancing in Ron's direction, Elizabeth didn't waste any more time in the Great Hall than was necessary, and as soon as her examiner gave her permission to leave, she rushed off to the common room to study for the next day's exam, Charms, at rocket speed. And it had paid off, too, for the stuff she had managed to learn that afternoon and evening helped her to answer as much as almost a fifth of the questions included in the written test. Her practical exam didn't go as well, though, since despite her best efforts, Elizabeth's over-studied mind simply refused to levitate the required object (in her case a very heavy sculpture) for more than four minutes, even though the 'Outstanding' OWL required five. Still, she was convinced her performance was bound to earn her at least 'E'.  
  
The third day of the OWLs, Wednesday, was taken up by Defence Against the Dark Arts - the subject Elizabeth was probably looking forward to the most, or at least the practical part of it. And she had a good reason to feel that way, too, since especially for the past year, her performance in class had been very close to perfect. As were, in the end, both her written and her practical exams, except for a small error in the sixteenth question where she had, for reasons unknown, mistaken a Boggart for a Dementor.  
  
"I really don't think you should continue studying during the OWLs," Hermione told her when she had heard about it. "You're overdoing it-"  
  
"And that's saying something since it had come from *her*," Jane chimed in.  
  
"-and I'm sure you'd never have made that mistake if you hadn't been spending every single minute of your free time surrounded by books. You've got Potions tomorrow, and I know just how much you want to succeed *there*, so why don't you take a break this afternoon? We could go for a walk around the lake-"  
  
"And Potions is exactly the reason why I'm going to study harder than ever this afternoon," Elizabeth cut her off impatiently. "You two can go for a walk if you like, but I'm going to the library. See ya!"  
  
And she took off so fast Hermione didn't even have time to invent another argument to stop her.  
  
"She's mad," Jane declared as soon as her friend was out of earshot.  
  
"That's what love does to you," sighed Hermione and set off in the direction of the lake.  
  
***  
  
Elizabeth didn't get much sleep that night, as she'd spent most of it either revising potion ingredients in her head or imagining what she'd do if she failed to get an 'Outstanding' in her practical exam (she didn't worry too much about the written part, since Hermione had again agreed to let her copy should the need to do so arise), and therefore wasn't too surprised to, after finally falling into a deep slumber at six in the morning, wake up at seven feeling like she had someone using a large hammer stuck inside her head, especially in the area somewhere behind her eyes. She was also incredibly nervous, more than she'd been before all the other exams put together, causing her stomach to feel like it was floating on water. It was driving her crazy, and she felt almost relieved when Professor McGonagall had finally let them into the Great Hall for the written test.  
  
She sank down into her usual seat at the back of the Hall and waited, impatiently tracing patterns on the wooden table in front of her. At last the paper appeared there, and Elizabeth hungrily focused her eyes on the first question.  
  
'What is a bezoar?' it read.  
  
'Hmm, I think I know, but I'm not entirely sure,' Elizabeth muttered silently. 'Let's just leave it for later. Next...'  
  
'Name all the ingredients used to make a Forgetfulness Potion.'  
  
'I knew that yesterday, so how come I can only remember one ingredient now? Maybe it'll still come back to me. Next...'  
  
'What colour is the Shrinking Solution?'  
  
'Um ... next.'  
  
But the test continued in much the same way, and by the time she reached the last page, Elizabeth had only succeeded in answering fifteen questions out of the total of thirty. And going over the paper once more didn't help much, either, as raising the number of answered questions to seventeen wasn't exactly something she'd call success.  
  
Hermione was now her only hope, but to Elizabeth's absolute frustration, she seemed too absorbed in her own paper to notice the silent signals to lean over she was giving her.  
  
Elizabeth felt the tears form in her eyes. She could say goodbye to Snape's NEWT class now, because even if she managed to make a perfect potion during her practical exam, it still wouldn't be enough to get her an overall 'Outstanding'. In fact, she'd be lucky if she didn't fail.  
  
She looked at the giant hour-glass. There was still about an hour to go, though what was time good for when she had nothing to write?  
  
But she didn't give up *yet*, and desperately darted her eyes around the Hall, searching for something - anything - to help her. And that was when she saw him. There, on her right, half hidden in the shadows, stood Snape, apathetically gazing into empty space, evidently lost in thought. Elizabeth's heart was breaking at the sight; was she to never set foot in his classroom again? To never watch him brew another potion? To never hear his silky voice...  
  
And suddenly, as if by magic, that was exactly what she *did* hear, only this time the beautiful, mesmerizing voice existed solely in her head, even if it sounded as though Snape was standing right next to her.  
  
'A bezoar is most certainly *not* a plant, Howard,' the voice was saying, 'but a stone found in the stomach of a goat. And could you tell me how you expect to know it the next time I ask you when you haven't even written it down?'  
  
Now Elizabeth understood. This was no magic; she was simply remembering one of the lessons she'd had with Snape in her first year. It seemed as if it were yesterday when the Potions master stood towering over the plump Hufflepuff, his lips curled in a triumphant smile; and suddenly Elizabeth knew exactly why she had remembered this particular scene - it held the answer to one of the test questions.  
  
She felt like laughing, singing and dancing, all at the same time, but instead she just scribbled down the correct answer and hoped for another helpful image. She didn't have to wait long, for as soon as she finished writing the last word, a new scene forced its way into her mind.  
  
'Enlighten me, Mr. Tweedle,' Snape was saying in that dangerous, but ever so enchanting silky voice of his, intently gazing down at the poor boy's bubbling cauldron as if it were something utterly revolting, 'as to what exactly is the name of this ... thing you've so hopelessly been attempting to make here for the past hour?'  
  
'It's a Shrinking Solution, sir,' peeped Jamie.  
  
'I see,' nodded Snape and then asked, suddenly changing the tone of his voice to something one would probably use to speak with a particularly dimwitted three-year-old: 'Now tell me, what colour is it?'  
  
'Pink.'  
  
'So it is. And what colour is it supposed to be?'  
  
'Green.'  
  
'Exactly. And why isn't it green?'  
  
Jamie was looking downright terrified by now. 'I don't know, sir.'  
  
'Because you forgot to add the daisy roots, that's why,' Snape informed him. 'Now be so kind and get rid of it before it becomes even more dangerous than it already is. And, as usual, Tweedle - zero marks.'  
  
Elizabeth gave a contented sigh and proceeded to once more write down the correct answer. And still the images didn't cease to appear; more and more memories continued to float to the surface, and would've probably kept on coming right until all the questions on the exam paper had been answered if Professor McGonagall hadn't announced that the test was over. As it was, Elizabeth still had three questions left to answer by the time the papers had disappeared, but she just didn't care, for if it hadn't been for the flashbacks, the result would've been much more disastrous. Not being able to resist, she simply had to throw another look in Snape's direction before having to leave the Hall, but to her endless disappointment, he was no longer there, probably preferring to seek out the peace and quiet of his dark dungeon again.  
  
After finally succeeding in elbowing her way out into the Entrance Hall, Elizabeth immediately started searching the crowd for Hermione, because even though the test had been a success in the end, she still couldn't forget the feeling of desperation and helplessness that had overcome her when the Gryffindor didn't react to her signals.  
  
She spotted her soon enough, and didn't waste any time beating about the bush when she eventually reached the place where the brown-haired witch was standing, already absorbed in another fierce discussion with Jane.  
  
"Hermione!" she said loudly enough to break the two girls in the middle of arguing about the properties of the Invisibility Potion.  
  
"Elizabeth!" Hermione exclaimed. "Sorry, I didn't see you. How did your test go?"  
  
"O.K., thanks to some unexpected help. But if it hadn't been for that, I would've failed, and *you* wouldn't have lifted a hand to stop it. Do you know how many times I have tried to signal you to lean over, and you, being too busy with your own test, simply ignored it?"  
  
"Oh, I'm *so* sorry, Elizabeth!" said Hermione, looking so positively ashamed of herself Elizabeth simply couldn't pretend to be angry with her any longer. "I just got so absorbed in the paper I completely stopped noticing everything else around me. But the main thing is that you have done well in the end, isn't it? What was the unexpected help, anyway?"  
  
Elizabeth smiled and went on to describe the unusual source of her successful test performance. By the time she had finished, Jane was looking somewhat amused, while Hermione seemed to be pondering over something.  
  
"Well, that certainly is interesting," she said finally, "and I think it goes to show just how much you love him. It's a pity he doesn't know that he isn't as alone as he thinks; that there's actually someone out there who really cares for him."  
  
"To be honest, I think you're just wasting your time with him," stated Jane. "And don't get angry at me for saying this, but in my opinion he doesn't even deserve to be loved, being the bastard that he is. Do you really believe there's any chance of his loving you back sometime? I think not. He probably doesn't even know what love is."  
  
Elizabeth gave her friend a cold glare but didn't say anything, because deep down, she had to admit that Jane was most probably right. But never in one thing: for no matter what anyone said, Elizabeth was still convinced that if somebody in the world deserved to be loved, it was Snape. And with that on her mind, she turned around and headed off for lunch.  
  
When she got to the Great Hall, however, which immediately reminded her of the practical exam she was about to endure only a few hours later, all her thoughts concerning food were quickly extinguished. She couldn't even look at the full plates without feeling her stomach turn over, so instead of eating, she decided to leave for the library to do some last minute revision, and not even Hermione's insistence that she couldn't simply skip lunch, least of all before an exam, could stop her.  
  
All too soon, however, the time to return to the Great Hall had come, and even though Elizabeth's name was among the last ones to be called, the moment still arrived much earlier than she would've liked. There was no time to recover, either, for only a couple of seconds later, she was already standing in front of an empty cauldron, all on her own and trembling like an aspen leaf, with the name of the potion she was supposed to be brewing floating before her eyes and an impatient examiner pressuring her to just get on with it before he became angry and simply chucked her out with no marks.  
  
Slowly, Elizabeth pulled herself together and once more read the name of the potion.  
  
'Confusing Concoction.'  
  
When had she learned how to make that one? A week ago? Then it shouldn't be too hard to remember...  
  
But no: however much she strained her mind to provide the ingredients and the preparation method, it was of no use - the little she had managed to come up with was definitely not good enough to tell her how she should set about the complicated potion she was expected to make. But as she was about to tell the examiner that he could just write her a zero and let her go, her memory had decided to play another trick on her ... and she remembered something.  
  
The Confusing Concoction - wasn't that the potion they had been making the lesson Joshua had to be taken to the hospital wing two minutes after the beginning of class? Of course it was! And wasn't that also the lesson Snape had given her the one point for her antidotes essay? Yes!  
  
It was all coming back to her now: the enormous satisfaction and pride she had felt, the wrong amount of bat wings she had almost added to her potion after thinking more about her essay than about her cauldron...  
  
"Miss Woodhouse, are you going to make any attempt at the potion or should I just write you a zero?" the examiner asked testily.  
  
With a start, Elizabeth returned to reality. "Yes, yes, I'll give it a try," she said quickly, and immediately started naming the ingredients she knew she'd need, while her examiner pulled out his wand to conjure them up for her. Sometimes she stopped to check her memory to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything, earning an impatient glare from the man in front of her every time, but she simply ignored him; getting all the ingredients right was far more important. And only after going over them several times to make certain she really hadn't missed any did she finally get down to making the potion itself.  
  
Half an hour later she was done, and although she knew the potion was far from perfect, since her hands were shaking too much to cut the ingredients properly (and her examiner wasn't making it any easier, either, with his constant reminders of how much time she still had left until the end), she simply didn't care about it at that moment; she was just happy to have it over and done with, having been able to produce at least something to hand in for marking.  
  
'Just one more important exam to go - I don't give a damn about the rest,' she thought cheerfully as she headed up to Ravenclaw Tower. 'And I have the whole weekend to study for it, too.'  
  
***  
  
Elizabeth thought she'd sleep well now that she had Potions behind her, but as she soon found out, she was badly mistaken. Every night she woke up at least once, torturing herself with endless thoughts concerning the outcome of her exam, but at the same time dreading the day she'd find out. Sometimes she wasn't even sure if she wanted to know, because now she could at least hope for an 'Outstanding'; afterwards even the hope could well be snatched away.  
  
All her other exams passed by in a blur: Herbology, where she had stuffed up absolutely everything that had been there to stuff up, but since it was one of her least favourite subjects, she didn't really mind; Care of Magical Creatures, where she got stung by a Blast-Ended Skrewt before finally managing to feed it a dead mouse; Muggle Studies - at least one subject she was sure to get an OWL in without giving the textbook a single glance all year; Divination - why she hadn't followed Hermione's example and dropped it like any other sane person would've done was beyond her; Astronomy and, lastly, History of Magic. This one subject, now back again to being her second favourite after Snape's return, had at least somewhat improved her gloomy mood, since she was almost sure she had managed a perfect score in her test, having had so much time to study for it.  
  
Now there was only one thing left for her to do (not counting overeating herself at the feast celebrating the end of their exams) - attempting to obtain her Animagus licence. And although she was by now sick of exams of any sort (and even a mention of anything to do with them was enough to drive her mad), she still thought she'd be better off undergoing the short test now, rather than leaving it until the beginning of the next school year. At least she could show off at home.  
  
So, as it was, instead of spending the last day of school outside, enjoying the beautiful summer weather that was simply inviting students to go for a swim in the lake, she and Hermione were standing in the middle of the Transfiguration classroom, waiting for orders from not only Professor McGonagall, but also two other, rather important-looking women, who had most probably come from the Ministry.  
  
"All right, girls," their Transfiguration teacher said finally. "There's only one thing you have to do to get your licence: change into your animal and stay that way for half an hour. But beware: you must also behave the way your animal does - *the whole time*, because if we see as much as a shadow of anything resembling human manners, all your chances of obtaining a licence are lost, and you'll just have to try next time. And don't think you can simply pretend to be asleep the whole half-hour, you won't get away with that either. Well, that's about it, I'd say. Are you both ready?"  
  
The girls nodded, giving each other a reassuring smile.  
  
"Right then. Start ... now!"  
  
'This should be fun,' Elizabeth thought as she easily changed into an exact copy of her neighbours' cat. 'I've watched Mitzy in action often enough.'  
  
And so she did what she'd seen the black and white cat do: she stretched, yawned, brushed against McGonagall's feet and purred, jumped onto one of the desks and gracefully walked back and forth a few times, let out a quiet "meow" ... and before she realized it, the half-hour was over and McGonagall, looking very pleased, was shaking her hand while handing her a brand new Animagus licence.  
  
Hermione, as expected, had also succeeded, and so a couple of minutes later, the two girls were walking down the dark corridors of Hogwarts, both with huge grins lighting up their faces.  
  
"That was the most enjoyable exam I've ever done," Elizabeth said happily, still examining her licence.  
  
"Yes, it was great," agreed Hermione. "But I think Charms was even more fun."  
  
Elizabeth gave her friend an incredulous look, but she soon saw the Gryffindor was only joking.  
  
"Do you know I almost believed you?" she laughed.  
  
"It'd sound like me, wouldn't it? But I'll try not to be such a terrible bookworm next year; I've realized it's just not worth it. I think I'll devote my time to discovering ways of how people can get good marks even without spending all their time buried in textbooks."  
  
"Hermione, are you joking again or are you ill?" Elizabeth asked, alarmed.  
  
"I'm serious. Why not do something for the future generations?"  
  
"No, you didn't understand; I think it's a wonderful idea, it's just that it doesn't sound like you."  
  
"Yeah, maybe you're right," said Hermione thoughtfully. "But I've realized that up till now, I've been using all my knowledge entirely for my own purposes, so maybe the time has come to use it to help others as well. And ... wait a minute, where are you going? Aren't you coming outside with me?"  
  
Elizabeth, who had turned towards the staircase on her right, shook her head. "No, I still need to pack. I'll see you later, O.K.?"  
  
"Well ... all right," Hermione agreed reluctantly and, giving her friend a small wave, disappeared down the stairs leading to the Entrance Hall.  
  
Elizabeth slowly started making her way to Ravenclaw Tower, thinking about her conversation with Hermione as she went. She still couldn't believe what the Gryffindor had told her. What could have happened to make her suddenly want to spend her time not studying, but making studying easier for others? Not that she thought it was a bad idea, not at all, it was just ... strange.  
  
Being so lost in thought, Elizabeth didn't notice Snape coming in her direction until he was standing right in front of her. She stopped with a start and blushed.  
  
'Oh no, not again!' she thought angrily.  
  
Since the time the Potions master had returned, she seemed to be running into him everywhere. She wouldn't even have been surprised to find him waiting for her in the girls' toilet. And every time, since their meetings were always so sudden she never had a chance to prepare herself for facing him, her reaction was the same: a jolt going through her body, followed by a blush. She was surprised he hadn't noticed yet. And then, when she succeeded in pulling herself together enough to know what she was doing, all she could usually manage was to produce a weak smile, bid him a quiet "Good day, Professor" and then quickly disappear. But this time, it was to be a little different, for Snape had decided to speak to her.  
  
"Miss Woodhouse," he drawled. "Is there any reason for your not being outside, enjoying the sunshine together with the rest of the Hogwarts student population?"  
  
Elizabeth was suddenly absolutely calm. 'So you want to be annoying?' she thought amusedly. 'All right, but I bet you know as well as I do that spending a nice day in the castle is definitely *not* against the rules. And what's more, I *do* have a reason for being here.'  
  
"Yes, Professor," she said, looking him straight in the eye ('if only his eyes weren't so beautiful ... one could get lost in them forever'). "I was getting my Animagus licence."  
  
But Snape wasn't about to give in so easily. "I see; but then you're going in the wrong direction. The Entrance Hall is the other way."  
  
"I'm not going to the Entrance Hall. I'm on my way to Ravenclaw Tower."  
  
Snape raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? And why, may I ask?"  
  
'And what business of yours is it? You've got a serious problem, Professor - you see trouble even when it's not there. Well, fine, I'll tell you, and let's see what you can make of it.'  
  
"Because I want to finish my packing."  
  
"Well, in that case, I won't keep you," Snape said with a sneer, and although the words held no special meaning, the way he had said them made Elizabeth feel like she was about to go and do something dirty, like scrub the floor or clean the toilet. "Good day, Miss Woodhouse."  
  
And he brushed past her, swiftly making his way down the dark corridor towards the stairs leading to the Entrance Hall, his black robes billowing behind him.  
  
'Coward. You didn't know what to say to that, so you backed off. You just have to have the last word, don't you, Professor? Well, not this time.'  
  
"Sir?" Elizabeth called before he had even managed to reach the top of the staircase.  
  
Snape stopped and turned around, looking somewhat irritated, since she had dared to ruin his grand departure. "Yes, Miss Woodhouse?"  
  
"Have a nice summer, sir."  
  
And before Snape could wipe the surprised expression off his face and respond, Elizabeth had swept from his sight, and was already halfway up the next staircase by the time he had finally moved.  
  
A/N: Well, I was right, it did take me a bit longer to write this, but considering the little time I've had for my story during the past two weeks, it's not that bad. Now I've got the computer all to myself for three days, so the next chapter should be out sooner.  
  
And a huge huge thank you to all my reviewers; I got almost as many reviews for the last chapter as I had for the whole story! I love you, guys! And please, don't stop there, keep them coming! It's my motivation to continue writing ... well, that and my obsession with Snape.  
  
Emily: Sorry, I worked all day yesterday to have the chapter ready by evening, but when I finally got down to putting it up, I discovered Fanfiction.net isn't working. Now it's here, though, and I hope you like it.  
  
Tania Nightqueen: I simply love getting your reviews, since you don't just tell me that you like the story, but what you like about it as well. Please review again!  
  
The Evil Cup of Tea: Wow! You reviewed again! Thank you; it just makes me so happy to know you're still reading. And it's great you think Snape's IC, I'm really trying to make him that way.  
  
Susie: Thank you for reviewing, and as for Elizabeth continuing with Potions, I think that after Snape's return she'd love to, but you'll just have to wait till the next chapter to see if her OWL's good enough to get her to his NEWT class.  
  
Le Changeant Nom: Thank you! I'm so glad you're enjoying the story; did you like this new chapter too?  
  
LadyJavert: Thank you for reviewing again! And you know what? I'm making Elizabeth act the way I would (so if we both went to Hogwarts, then he'd definitely have at least two girls stalking him ... poor guy), and sometimes I'm putting so much of myself into her it scares me. Like at the end of this chapter when she met Snape (he seems a bit OOC there to me, but I just thought that since it's the end of the school year and he'll have two months off, with no students to annoy him, he might just as well be in a slightly better mood than he usually is; besides, he wasn't in the classroom and therefore didn't have to keep up his image so much): I really felt like it was me who was to meet him when I was writing it. That's also the reason why I'm not doing a SS/HG fic, because then I'd be limited by having to keep Hermione IC, and therefore couldn't always make her act like I would. And lastly: I also hate those fics where Snape's OOC and acts like some Mr. Nice Guy, because I simply *love* when he's being a bastard.  
  
Kat-tak: That's so cool you're still reading and enjoying this story. Well, here's the new chapter. Hope you like it as much as the rest.  
  
Lacey: I'm so happy you like the way I write Snape, because keeping him in character's my main goal. I probably couldn't live with myself if I made him act strange. Anyway, thanks for reviewing, and here's the new chapter. Hope you enjoyed it. 


	14. Patience!

Chapter 14  
  
Patience!  
  
Elizabeth cheerfully burst into her dormitory, feeling extremely pleased with herself. And no wonder; she had, after all, succeeded in making Professor Snape speechless for the second time in a row now, and which student could take pride in having done a thing like that even once? She hoped it would, if nothing else, at least set him wondering, and she could easily imagine what his thoughts would look like:  
  
'What's wrong with me? How could I, Severus Snape, have let *a student* get the better of me? Why isn't she afraid of me like all the others? Why doesn't she hate me? What's more, she even told me to have a nice summer! Is she trying to make fun of me? Or is it possible that she had actually meant it ... no, no, that's ridiculous...'  
  
Getting this far, Elizabeth almost broke down in tears. Could he really be thinking just that? Does he really believe everybody hates him (not that he doesn't try to make people feel that way, but still)? That it's impossible for somebody to wish him a nice day without ulterior motives? Maybe she should've just kept silent then, because however much it pleased her to have him thinking about her, she'd much rather have him ponder over a potion of some sort than to think of her as an enemy.  
  
Slowly, she started packing her things into her trunk, still turning it over in her mind. Perhaps she was just imagining things. How could she know what was going on in his head? Maybe he really did appreciate her being nice to him, just like any other normal person would. Well, she'd probably never find out.  
  
But she had never been more wrong in her entire life, for as soon as she was done with her packing, and left Ravenclaw Tower to go outside in search of her two friends, she ran into Snape once more. It almost seemed as if he'd been waiting for her, which, upon further reflection, Elizabeth decided he most probably had.  
  
"Come with me," he ordered, and when Elizabeth had finally succeeded in getting her feet to move, he led her into the nearest empty classroom and, closing the door behind them, seated himself on one of the desks. Elizabeth, feeling her knees buckle, did the same.  
  
"Now, Miss Woodhouse," he started, his coal-like eyes boring into hers, "tell me: what exactly are you getting at?"  
  
"What do you mean?" Elizabeth asked quietly, stalling for time.  
  
'I was right!' her mind screamed. 'He really *does* think I'm trying to make fun of him, and now he wants to know why. Isn't this the perfect opportunity to prove him wrong? What can I possibly say to make him believe I really meant it when I wished him a nice summer? *Without* telling him it was because I love him? Think, girl, think!'  
  
"Don't play stupid, Miss Woodhouse, I'm sure you know perfectly well what I mean. All those smiles, all the 'Have a nice day, have a nice summer, Professor' rubbish; what are you trying to achieve?"  
  
'Uh-oh, here goes.'  
  
"I'm just being polite, sir."  
  
Snape leaned forward, his eyes narrowed. "Do you really think I'm going to believe that, Miss Woodhouse?" he asked with a sneer.  
  
'I've had it. It's either now or never.'  
  
"Yes, as a matter of fact I do. I mean, I smile at all the other Professors, I even tell them to have a nice day every so often, so why should I treat you any different?"  
  
'Because you *are* different. I love you. But you'll probably never know that.'  
  
Snape let out an exasperated sigh. "Oh, come on, Miss Woodhouse. Have you ever seen any other student smile at me? And even you; I most certainly don't remember you acting this way until three weeks ago. So why the sudden change?"  
  
'I think you'd most likely faint if I told you. The problem is, I now haven't got the slightest idea of what to say. Perhaps turning defence into attack might help...'  
  
"Well, I somehow wanted to let you know how glad I am to have you back. I thought it'd make you happy." She sighed. "Obviously I was wrong. Because for some reason, you seem to think that whenever something nice is said to you, it has to have some kind of hidden meaning. Hasn't it ever occurred to you that sometimes the person *might* actually mean it?"  
  
Snape slid of the desk and stood up to his full height, his thin lips pressed tightly together.  
  
"I will not be spoken to like that, Miss Woodhouse," he snarled. "As far as I know, I'm still your teacher, and you will treat me as such ... otherwise I shall be forced to put you in detention. Now, since this conversation seems to only be wasting my time, you will have to excuse me - I have some work to do."  
  
"But-"  
  
"But nothing. I've given you your chance to tell me the truth - you've thrown it away. Very well. I shall have to find out myself. And believe me, Miss Woodhouse, it won't take long."  
  
And with a curt nod, he started off for the door.  
  
Elizabeth had to stop him. She *had* to make him believe her.  
  
"Professor, wait!"  
  
Snape whirled around, his eyes filled with anger. "Don't even consider it," he said in a quiet, dangerous voice. "Try to wish me a pleasant summer once more and you'll be sorry for ever being born."  
  
Why does he have to be like that? Why won't he allow anyone to treat him like a normal person, and not the bastard he's striving so hard to make everyone believe he is? He *needs* somebody to talk to, he *needs* a friend, so why does he go around destroying all attempts to befriend him before they get too far?  
  
'He's afraid,' Elizabeth decided. 'He's been betrayed, maybe more than once, and now he's afraid it could happen again. But what can I do to convince him that he's wrong about me?'  
  
She could feel tears of frustration begin to fill her eyes, and it took all of her strength to prevent the emotion from showing in her voice.  
  
"I didn't want to wish you a pleasant summer, sir," she said softly. "I only wanted to ask you to think about what I've said, because I meant all of it, I really did."  
  
"Goodbye, Miss Woodhouse. Enjoy your holiday," Snape responded smoothly and strode out of the classroom, slamming the door behind him.  
  
Elizabeth angrily brought her fist down onto the desk she was sitting on.  
  
He still didn't believe her, and those last words have only proved it. Yes, he had told her to enjoy her holiday, but he seemed to have been laughing at her at the same time, since there was no doubt it had only been an imitation of her own words to him.  
  
If only he could give the matter some thought! Was it too much to ask? Evidently it was, and chances were, he had probably dismissed her request already, as if it were only an annoying insect that could simply be shooed away.  
  
But what if he hadn't? What if...  
  
No, these thoughts weren't going to get her anywhere ... except maybe St. Mungo's. Wasn't she originally on her way to meet Jane and Hermione? Yes, and that was probably the best thing she could do right now - talk to them about it and see what they have to say to it.  
  
And so, after preventively making sure Snape wasn't anywhere near, although she was quite certain that after what she'd said to him he'd be about as eager to see her as she was to see him, she quickly covered the rest of the way to the Entrance Hall, and then continued outside, immediately beginning to look in all directions for any sign of her two friends.  
  
It didn't take long for her to find them: they were sitting under a wide- branched oak tree by the lake, both immersed in books and oblivious to the world around them. But when she came closer, she saw that while Jane was reading an Agatha Christie, Hermione's book was nothing more and nothing less than the all too familiar volume bound in dark green leather - 'Most Potente Potions'. Despite her problems with Snape, Elizabeth couldn't help but give a little laugh - her friend would probably never change.  
  
"Tut, tut, Hermione," she said reprovingly and snapped the book shut. "Look at you - you're reading again! Whatever happened to your little project; you know, making studying easier for others and all that?"  
  
"I'm working on it," replied Hermione. "And this," she tapped the thick book now lying on the ground beside her, "is helping me. Just a bit of research to start off with. Anyway, what took you so long?"  
  
Elizabeth's face clouded over. "I ran into Snape," she said gravely. "Twice."  
  
"Really? What happened?"  
  
Elizabeth told her, and by the time she had finished, she was feeling a lot better. Keeping things to herself had never been her cup of tea, and she knew it only too well.  
  
"Bastard," said Jane without glancing up from her book.  
  
Hermione, however, remained silent, chewing her lip and looking thoughtful. After a while, Elizabeth couldn't stand it any longer and asked: "Well? What do *you* think, Hermione? What am I supposed to do now?"  
  
"It's hard to say," the bushy-haired witch replied slowly, "but I think the best thing to do would be to wait. Wait until after the holidays, see how he treats you, and *then* decide what to do next."  
  
"Wait!?" Elizabeth exclaimed. "For two months? Hermione, I'll go crazy!"  
  
"Maybe, but have you got a better plan? Besides, you won't stand a chance with somebody like Snape if you can't be patient. *Very* patient."  
  
"Yeah, I know," sighed Elizabeth. "It's just..." she trailed off, not quite sure how to express herself.  
  
"Hard? Yes, I understand how you feel," said Hermione comfortingly. "You have a long way ahead of you, and what awaits you at the end? Most likely nothing, but maybe, just maybe, everything. And now," she picked up the copy of 'Most Potente Potions' and got to her feet, "let's go to the feast, during which I'd like you to forget all about Snape, or at least give it a try. O.K.?"  
  
"O.K."  
  
This was easier said than done, however, because as much as Elizabeth tried to keep any thoughts concerning the dark-haired Potions master from occupying her mind, all her attempts were immediately put to sleep when he had entered the Hall and then taken his usual seat only a few metres away from her. In fact, she couldn't concentrate on anything else from then on, for all her attention was focused on him. She didn't know what she was eating, she had no idea who had won the House Championship (Gryffindor - again?) ... all she cared about was whether she had managed to talk some sense into him or not. Probably not, judging by the death glare he had given her right at the end of the feast, but apart from this, his eyes were steadily avoiding her and his expression remained as unreadable as ever.  
  
***  
  
Elizabeth was convinced that after all that had happened that day, a restless night was simply bound to follow, but fortunately for her, the OWLs had finally taken their toll, and so after almost two weeks of very little sleep, she had once again discovered the beauty of peaceful slumber, making it quite difficult for Jane to wake her up the next morning. From then on, however, everything else was far from peaceful: starting with the hasty breakfast (her last opportunity to catch a glimpse of Snape) and ending with some stressful last minute packing and a frantic search of Ravenclaw Tower for a forgotten Transfiguration book.  
  
But despite all this, even she had eventually found herself standing at the crowded platform in Hogsmeade, with most of her belongings resting safely in her trunk and a very pained expression clouding up her pretty face. How she wished she didn't have to leave! She knew it was, of course, impossible, but the idea of not being able to see Snape for *two whole months* was simply unbearable. She didn't have any more time to think about it, though, because at that moment, Hermione made her board the train and join the other prefects in the prefect carriage, leaving her no choice but to fully concentrate on her duties.  
  
The journey was fast and, not counting the fact that both Jane and Hermione had offered her to spend some time during the holidays with them, uneventful. All too soon, Elizabeth was once more back at her family's villa, with nothing to look forward to but a long, boring, miserable holiday and a maybe-fatal letter containing her OWL results. Still, there was a tiny chance that exactly this letter could become one of the few bright spots of the endless time she was forced to spend at home that summer, and so for that reason her favourite activity for the first couple of days (apart from changing into her Animagus form and playing chase with Mitzy) was to sit by the window in her room, eagerly surveying the cloudless sky for a sign of anything even slightly resembling a school owl. And just when she was about to give up, deciding they had most probably forgotten about her, she saw it: a huge tawny owl carrying a letter - a letter containing her fate.  
  
By the time Elizabeth had finally managed to untie the envelope from the owl's leg, since it was absolutely impossible for her to keep her hands steady, the bird was looking thoroughly irritated and ready to give her an impatient peck, but a large cookie seemed to immediately improve its sour mood, so much so that it even gave her a friendly hoot before it eventually departed, heading back in the direction of Elizabeth's beloved school.  
  
Elizabeth let out a sigh and then pounced on the envelope, not caring to open it properly and simply tearing it apart - just to get to read the letter more quickly. And when she was finally holding it in her hand, she didn't even bother to read it from the beginning, instead she skipped straight to her Potions result, for at that moment, she really didn't give a damn about anything else.  
  
She read it once. Twice. And she would've read it once more, but by then her vision was so blurred she simply couldn't.  
  
She dropped down onto her bed, letting the letter fall to the floor. But the words, written in green ink, were still floating before her eyes, even long after she had closed them.  
  
'Potions: Exceeds Expectations.'  
  
This wasn't happening. This was a bad dream she'd wake up from to find that what she had really received was the 'Outstanding' she had longed for so much.  
  
No such luck: when she had wiped the tears that had so quickly filled her eyes, and picked up the paper to have one more look, the result was still the same: 'Exceeds Expectations.' But then, just as she was about to angrily scrunch the letter up into a ball and throw it in the bin, she noticed something: a little red star next to the dreadful message ... and another one carrying the explanation further on.  
  
Elizabeth frowned. What was this supposed to mean? Quickly she read the tiny red writing ... and let out a gasp of surprise.  
  
'By order of the Headmaster of Hogwarts, the results of all students in this subject will be raised by one grade.'  
  
Elizabeth burst into tears again, but this time, they were tears of joy. She had an 'Outstanding' now, she would get accepted into Snape's NEWT class ... what more could she wish for?  
  
But what had made Dumbledore do it? What reason could he possibly have? Why ... oh, but of course! Suddenly it all made sense, and for the first time in her life, she began to see Fletcher in a positive light. For she was sure that *he* was the reason for Dumbledore's decision - he and his ineffective teaching method which had probably caused most of the fifth- years to fail their Potions OWL ... something the Headmaster simply couldn't allow to happen. Because not everybody had the motivation to succeed like her (not to mention the helpful visions), or Hermione's ability to learn everything off by heart and then be able to somehow perform it in practice, or the incredible Potions talent of Draco Malfoy; no, most students needed to actually *make* all the potions, not just read about them, and also a good teacher to watch over them in order to pass their exams ... and with Fletcher, they had neither.  
  
After allowing herself about ten minutes to sufficiently relish the good news, Elizabeth decided to finally see how she had done in the other subjects. And even though there were no surprises in store for her this time, she didn't really mind, as she found the results more than satisfying.  
  
'Transfiguration: Outstanding.'  
  
'Charms: Exceeds Expectations.'  
  
'Defence Against the Dark Arts: Outstanding.'  
  
'Herbology: Dreadful.' (Well, she didn't really expect anything else.)  
  
'Care of Magical Creatures: Acceptable.'  
  
'Muggle Studies: Exceeds Expectations.'  
  
'Divination: Poor.' (So what ... it could've been worse.)  
  
'Astronomy: Acceptable.'  
  
'History of Magic: Outstanding.' (And - surprise, surprise - full marks, too!)  
  
And so for the first time since she had come home that summer, Elizabeth was as close to being happy as the circumstances would allow her, which was enough to actually make her smile once again as she swiftly made her way downstairs to show the OWL results to her parents.  
  
A/N: Three reviews only a day after I had put the last chapter up - for the second time now! Thank you, thank you, thank you, and I hope you guys like this chapter as much as the last. As for me, I absolutely *loved* writing it, especially the conversation at the beginning. Please tell me what you think of it!  
  
Tania Nightqueen: Thank you very very much for reviewing again - you're just being so nice to me I don't even deserve it. The only thing I can give you in return is a new chapter, and as you can see it's not a long, boring one on Elizabeth's holiday as you have feared it might be. Although I must admit I have considered it, but only briefly, then I decided against it - I, too, thought it might be boring, but mainly I couldn't think of anything interesting for Elizabeth to do over the summer. I also hope your curiosity has been satisfied - there's almost a whole page devoted to the OWL results. Anyway, thanks again and please - keep on reviewing!  
  
Our Mutual Final Destiny: Thank you, I'm glad you liked that idea, because I somehow wanted to show that despite what everybody says, Snape is actually a good teacher, even though he's somewhat (and I'm putting it mildly) mean. I'm also terribly happy that you have decided to keep on reading this story, because from your bio it seems that you only read fics where the author's English is close to perfect (your example on bad grammar was absolutely spot on - I've really seen fics like that, and I can't stand them either) - and I think I'm far from that, seeing English is only my second language. Please, please - review again!  
  
Padfoot's Girl: Another potential Snape stalker! He'd have a whole crowd of girls behind him if he were real; maybe it's lucky he isn't. Anyway, I'm glad you think he's still IC, but I just felt there was something wrong with that dialogue at the end of last chapter, maybe he gave in too easily, I don't know, so I just kept thinking about how to improve it until I finally added just one more sentence, but to me it made all the difference. It's a small insert in the second last thing he says ("I won't keep you..."), in case you'd like to have a look. Thank you for reviewing and I hope to hear from you again!  
  
LadyJavert: Thank you for reviewing again (I'm glad you liked my description of the OWLs, I tried not to go by the book too much) and I'm eagerly awaiting your opinion on this new chapter. Snape really is being a bastard here, isn't he? But no, he won't notice her blushing, because I think that sooner or later she'll get used to seeing him and so it won't be such a shock for her if she meets him unexpectedly.  
  
Le Changeant Nom: Thank you, thank you, I'm really happy you like the story so much, it makes me feel like the enormous amount of time I'm spending on it isn't such a waste, after all. Hope you get down to reading this new chapter soon. Keep on reading - and reviewing! 


	15. The traitor

Chapter 15  
  
The traitor  
  
Elizabeth's happiness didn't last long, however, for as soon as she got over the initial ecstatic feelings caused by her success in Potions, there was nothing to prevent her from returning back to the same lethargic state she had been in before the arrival of her OWL results. Or maybe an even worse one, for now that she had no doubt about her further presence in Snape's Potions class, her stay at home had turned into pure torture. Sometimes she even went as far as considering whether she wouldn't have been better off with an 'Exceeds Expectations' grade, after all, because then she would've had absolutely no chance of getting into the NEWT class ... giving her nothing to look forward to and thus making her summer holiday much more bearable. But usually she quickly scolded herself for even daring to come up with such horrible thoughts, because how else would she be able to do something about Snape if not in class?  
  
Yes, Snape. Not for a moment could she get him off her mind, and it didn't take long for her mother to sense it, and come to the conclusion that something with her daughter definitely wasn't quite right. Elizabeth didn't feel like telling her about the man she had fallen in love with, but after eventually deciding to share her little secret with her grandmother (and receiving a reaction very similar to "Didn't I say so in December?"), it was only a matter of time before even her parents found out about Severus Snape. But their response didn't please her at all, for there was absolutely no chance of her just "getting over it - eventually", as they had so bluntly put it. How could anyone possibly think that her love for Snape would ever die?  
  
So the summer dragged on, and despite the time she'd spent with each of her two friends (why wasn't she surprised when Hermione told her she'd received an 'Outstanding' in every single one of her OWLs?), it still seemed like the longest one of her life.  
  
But eventually the end of it did arrive, as did the day to leave for Hogwarts, bringing Elizabeth's nervousness and anxiety to new levels. Somehow, though, she had managed to pack her things, bid farewell to her family, survive the seemingly endless train ride (during which she couldn't bring herself to do anything except stare out of the window while impatiently drumming her fingers on the table underneath) as well as the short trip in the horseless carriage that followed ... and now she was finally sitting at the Ravenclaw table, feeling both nervous and excited as she awaited the arrival of her beloved, who, along with Professor McGonagall, Hagrid and Dumbledore, was the only one still absent from the High table.  
  
It seemed like ages before he finally made his grand appearance, gracefully gliding towards his seat at the front of the Hall with his black robes billowing behind him, throwing hateful glares in all directions, and attracting Elizabeth's eyes like a magnet. From then on, she was only vaguely aware of what was happening around her: Dumbledore making his usual welcoming speech, the Sorting Hat singing yet another silly song, the new students being sorted ... Snape talking to Mrs. Figg (the only Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher who's lasted for more than a year since the time Elizabeth had started at Hogwarts), Snape eating, Snape...  
  
"Elizabeth!"  
  
She reluctantly tore her eyes from the dark Potions master to see who was calling her, only to find Jane waving a piece of parchment in front of her face and looking very excited.  
  
"Our timetables," she announced happily. "This year's going to be a walk through a rose garden for me: I've only got nineteen lessons - that's seven less than last year - and if I hadn't succeeded in making it to the Transfiguration NEWT class, it would've been fourteen."  
  
Elizabeth carefully started studying her timetable, and soon came to the conclusion that her year, unlike Jane's, was going to be far from easy, as her lesson total equaled twenty-nine - three more than the previous year. But she simply didn't care; the main thing (which she had noticed as soon as she set her eyes on the timetable) was that she'd have not two, but five lessons of Potions a week this year, and that the first of two weekly double lessons was awaiting her as soon as tomorrow. And so that night she went to bed with the wonderful knowledge that before long, she'd know exactly what she'd have to deal with from Snape this year: whether he had given her words some thought over the holidays, and therefore would finally be able to accept at least a simple wish of a good day, or whether he'd still remain sceptical towards anything of the sort.  
  
***  
  
Elizabeth's first lesson the next morning was a NEWT class of Transfiguration. It seemed like almost all of the sixth-years had chosen to take on this very subject, and so Professor McGonagall, at first eyeing the huge class with an air of uncertainty, as if not quite sure whether to be happy about it or not, decided to quickly make it perfectly clear that if anyone had joined the class assuming they would be able to just fool around, then they'd better think it over and leave before she chose to kick them out herself. Elizabeth thought she needn't have bothered to tell them such an obvious thing, as she was convinced that no one in their right mind could ever believe they'd be able to get away with anything but their best in the Head of Gryffindor's class, but after looking around and spotting Malfoy, who had spent the last five years of Transfiguration mostly absorbed in a game of Naughts and crosses with Crabbe and Goyle, she decided that Professor McGonagall most probably knew what she was doing. Not wasting any more time than was necessary, the lady in question then went straight down to business, which meant showing them a very difficult transfiguration of a cactus into a chihuahua and then asking them to try and do the same. Elizabeth and Hermione were among the first ones to succeed, but Jane wasn't nearly as lucky, since her chihuahua kept on looking more like a hedgehog than a dog before she finally managed to get it right towards the end of the lesson.  
  
They had Charms next, along with Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts one of the few subjects that had remained compulsory. Professor Flitwick was his usual cheerful self, immediately launching into a detailed account of his summer holidays. His narrative went on right until the end of the lesson, with the bell giving him quite a shock when he realized they hadn't done a single thing concerning Charms that day, causing them to be frightfully behind before the school year had even started. Elizabeth figured that was probably the main reason why he had given them so much homework afterwards, even though it was only their first day back.  
  
After lunch it was finally time for the moment of truth: while Jane had gone outside to read a book, Elizabeth and Hermione slowly set off for Snape's dungeon.  
  
"Have I already told you about the potion I've managed to create over the holidays as part of my little project?" Hermione asked as they descended one of the many staircases leading down to the Potions classroom.  
  
"No, I don't think so," Elizabeth replied absent-mindedly, her thoughts clearly elsewhere.  
  
"Oh ... well, it's a potion intended to boost the memory. Some people are simply terrible at memorizing things; they can read a sentence several times and still not remember it ... but my potion should be able to help them. See, what it does is that it strengthens the one part of the brain that is responsible for all this, causing the person's memory to undergo a vast improvement."  
  
"That's amazing!" exclaimed Elizabeth, Hermione's invention slowly gaining her interest.  
  
"Isn't it?" beamed the Gryffindor. "Just a couple more final touches, and I'll be ready to give it to Neville to try out. He was actually the one who had inspired me to do this project in the first place; when I saw just how much trouble the OWLs were giving him, I simply *couldn't* ignore it ... I *had* to do something!"  
  
Hermione had Elizabeth's full attention by now. "Are you sure it's safe?" the blond witch asked with concern.  
  
"Oh, *yes*," Hermione assured her. "I've tested it on myself several times. And while normally I'm able to memorize about twenty pages in an hour, with the potion I've managed fifty. Now I just need to work on the duration a bit more. Because at the moment, I can only get the effects of the potion to last a mere day, but if I could somehow work out how to make them become permanent..." she trailed off, suddenly lost in thought, causing the two girls to continue walking in silence.  
  
When at last they reached the Potions classroom, Elizabeth was surprised to see only two people waiting outside the door. True, it was still early, but most students were so afraid of being late to Snape's class that they usually made sure to arrive well in advance.  
  
But only two other kids had joined them by the time Snape let them inside, leading Elizabeth to believe that there would most probably be just the six of them, either because all the others hated Snape too much to put up with him for another two years, or simply because nobody else had done well enough in the OWLs to fulfill the Potions master's requirements for the class.  
  
Elizabeth took her usual seat at the front of the classroom and looked around: first at Snape, who was already standing by the blackboard and glaring down at them as if they were nothing more than a bunch of annoying insects, and then at the rest of the class, which, apart from her and Hermione, consisted only of - unsurprisingly - Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson (undoubtedly helped to cheat her way in by the blond Slytherin next to her), Hannah Abbott and Ernie Macmillan, both of whom had most likely been accepted only due to Dumbledore's generous decree.  
  
"Before we get on with the lesson," Snape finally said, his black eyes glittering, "I'd like to take a few seconds to remind some of you that if it hadn't been for the Headmaster's kind decision to raise your grades, you'd never have been here to begin with." He paused, his gaze landing shortly on Elizabeth before eventually shifting to Ernie and Hannah. "To make it perfectly clear: if your work doesn't reach the standard of the rest of the class, you will be asked to leave ... and I'll personally make sure you do so at the first possible opportunity." He paused again, his eyes boring into Elizabeth's as if trying to persuade her to leave straight away. "Now, as for today: we will start the whole course with a very simple potion, a potion some of you will surely find below your abilities - The Polyjuice Potion." For some reason, Snape sent a quick glance in Hermione's direction as he said this, causing the Gryffindor to suddenly become very interested in her hands. "The ingredients and the preparation method are on the board. You may begin."  
  
"Hermione, why did Snape look at you like that when he mentioned The Polyjuice Potion?" Elizabeth asked as she 'Accioed' the ingredients from the store cupboard.  
  
"I secretly made some in my second year," Hermione whispered. "I had to steal some stuff from his private stores to be able to brew it ... and I think he had somehow discovered it was me. He'd never had any proof, though."  
  
"Well, I do now, Miss Granger," said an amused voice right behind them, sending both girls very close to a heart attack. "Your confession is all the proof I need, wouldn't you say?" Snape (who else?) continued triumphantly, sweeping over to face them. "And since you seemed to have developed quite an obsession with Potions, I think that perhaps a detention with me might be just the right punishment for your foolish behaviour."  
  
"Yes, sir," said Hermione quietly, but just as Snape was about to move away, she couldn't help but ask: "So does ... does that mean you aren't taking off any points?"  
  
A shadow of disappointment passed over Snape's thin face. "Unfortunately, Miss Granger, yes, it does. I'm surprised that a know-it-all such as yourself isn't acquainted with the fact that the school rules actually forbid teachers to deduct points for something that has happened so long ago, otherwise I would've gladly done so. Now if you'd kindly return to your work; we will arrange your detention at the end of the lesson."  
  
And with a satisfied smirk, Snape swept off towards his desk.  
  
"Hermione, I'm *so* sorry!" Elizabeth exclaimed as soon as he was gone. "I shouldn't have asked!"  
  
"Don't worry about it. It's my fault - I ought to have taken a good look around before saying anything. Besides, it's just a detention he's given me, nothing more."  
  
Elizabeth didn't for one moment believe that Hermione really cared as little as she was letting on, because as far as she knew, the Gryffindor had never had a single detention in her life, but she chose not to press the point, instead attempting to concentrate on her potion once more. She had barely started slicing her leeches, however, when a shadow suddenly fell over her work, causing her to stop in mid-slice and raise her eyes. Who she saw was, of course, none other than Snape, looming over her like an overgrown bat and eyeing her leeches with an air of disdain.  
  
"You need to be more careful with those, Miss Woodhouse," he said silkily. "One small slip could ruin the whole potion."  
  
Now what was this all about? Why would he suddenly care if she ruined her potion or not? Did he want her to get it right? Or was he, on the contrary, trying to make her nervous to increase the chances of her stuffing it up? She surveyed his face in an attempt to determine what he was thinking, but his expression was unreadable.  
  
"Yes, sir, I know," she said finally. "I assure you I'll do my best not to slip."  
  
But Snape didn't move. Instead he continued to watch her, throwing in a critical remark every time anything went even slightly wrong. Which was actually quite often, as Snape's presence was making Elizabeth so nervous that her hands had started shaking, forcing her to use all of her strength to cut up her ingredients without injuring herself in the process.  
  
Was this some sort of revenge for her behaviour last year? Was he deliberately trying to make her ruin the potion so he could kick her out of his class? Elizabeth almost laughed; she was beginning to think like him now: seeing malicious intents even when they weren't there. This was a NEWT class, after all, with only six people in it, so it was only natural for him to spend more time with each student than was usual during a normal lesson; only his way of passing on knowledge was somewhat strange. Or maybe ... maybe he was just testing her - testing her to see if she was really worthy of being in the class. Well, if that was the case, then she'd do her best to show him that she most certainly was ... if only he left her alone for a while and stopped making her nervous.  
  
No such luck: Snape remained where he was for most of the lesson, only occasionally moving off to check the work of other students as well, especially that of Ernie and Hannah, and Elizabeth soon came to the conclusion that her only choice would be to try and ignore him. Which didn't turn out to be at all easy, not with how she felt about him, but to her indefinable delight, by the end of the lesson she had really managed to stop her hands from shaking almost completely. Still, her potion wasn't nearly as perfect as it could've been (unlike Draco's or Hermione's), but she was at least able to console herself with the fact that Ernie's, for example, had turned out even worse. For some reason, though, it wasn't Ernie who Snape had decided to hold back at the end of the lesson ... it was she.  
  
"That is most certainly *not* the way the potion should look at this stage, Miss Woodhouse," he sneered, gazing into her cauldron with an expression of deepest disgust.  
  
Well, if what he had been doing all throughout the lesson wasn't an attempt at revenge, then this most evidently was.  
  
"It would've turned out a lot better if you hadn't been there to distract me all the time," said Elizabeth boldly.  
  
Why should she make up lies when she could just as well tell him the truth? Unfortunately, though, it seemed as if that was exactly what he had been waiting to hear.  
  
"A good potion-maker can brew a potion under any circumstances," he said scornfully. "But if even a teacher can make you nervous, Miss Woodhouse, then I suggest you leave this class before it's too late."  
  
"Haven't I proved that I'm a good potion-maker over the four years you've taught me?" Elizabeth asked with an aggrieved expression.  
  
"Certainly not. Even a five-year-old could deal with what we've been doing so far, as only now, in the NEWT class, do I let my students begin with something a little more complex."  
  
Elizabeth knew this wasn't exactly true, as Hermione had once excitedly told her that the stuff they were doing with Snape was often far beyond the content of the textbook, but she decided to let it slide. Instead she said: "I'll just have to show you that I'm up to it, then. Good day, sir."  
  
And she was about to turn around and walk away, but Snape didn't allow her to have the last word this time.  
  
"I very much doubt that, Miss Woodhouse," he said coldly, "but since you evidently know better, I'll just leave you to it. Good day to you too."  
  
And with an expression of somebody who's about to clean out the sewer, he turned his attention to a shaking Hermione, who was quietly standing nearby, ready to hear out the details of her punishment.  
  
Elizabeth turned on her heel and angrily stormed out of the classroom, only barely resisting the temptation to slam the door behind her.  
  
Why did he have to be such an absolute bastard? Why did he never have a kind word for anyone, least of all her? Why did he seek revenge just because he couldn't find out why she was being nice to him?  
  
Well, she wouldn't let him get to her. If he really believed her to be hopeless at Potions - fine. But he'd better prepare himself for a change of mind, because she was going to do everything in her power to prove him wrong, even if it was the last thing she ever did.  
  
Her thoughts were disrupted by someone calling her name, and turning around, she saw a rather breathless Hermione running after her.  
  
"Why didn't you wait for me?" the Gryffindor asked, panting, when she had finally caught up with her friend.  
  
"Sorry, I didn't even realize I had started walking. It just somehow ... well, anyway, what is he making you do for your detention?"  
  
"Oh, nothing much. Scrub the desks, clean the cauldrons, rinse out all the vials ... everything without magic, of course... But don't worry about me; *you* are the one that should be complaining! All the stuff he had said to you ... I thought I was hearing things! Potions even a five-year-old could deal with indeed... Why didn't you say something?"  
  
"What difference would it have made? Besides, I don't want him to hate me even more than he already does..." A tear rolled down Elizabeth's cheek. "What have I done to him to deserve this, Hermione? I was only being nice and ... and..." she trailed off, her voice failing her.  
  
"Oh, don't cry," said Hermione soothingly, putting her arm around Elizabeth's shoulders. "Believe me, he's not worth it. He might have some qualities, but he's still just a cruel, nasty, ugly and unfair idiot who doesn't deserve a single one of your tears."  
  
Elizabeth managed a weak smile. "Thanks, Hermione. I'll bear that in mind if I ever feel like crying for him again."  
  
And so in this mood they reached their last class of the day - a double NEWT lesson of Defence Against the Dark Arts. Unsurprisingly, it turned out to be even more popular than Transfiguration, as with Voldemort still around, nobody wanted to risk remaining unprepaired should the time to face an unexpected attack ever arrive. Only the Slytherins were somewhat poorly represented; most of their fellow-students very likely using the time to practise not defensive spells against the Dark Arts, but the Dark Arts themselves.  
  
Mrs. Figg didn't waste any time and, promising to use the year to teach them various methods of resisting mind spells, immediately got down to explaining the basics. She even got as far as performing some simple spells on the students to see how well they'd cope with them before the lesson was over, and, along with Harry, Elizabeth was once more among the best. Which was just enough to make her come to the conclusion that maybe the day hadn't been such a complete disaster, after all.  
  
***  
  
Three weeks passed, and Elizabeth could proudly announce that Snape was no longer spending the lessons towering over her table and criticising her work; simply because he had no reason to. She had managed to fix her Polyjuice Potion to make it absolutely perfect, forcing Snape to eventually give up on his revenge and move off to terrorize Ernie instead.  
  
But however much Elizabeth tried, she could never even get close to being as good as Hermione, who was doing unbelievably well in every single one of her classes, all the while still being able to find the time to work on her project. Soon she had deprived the potion of all flaws, and one day during Defence Against the Dark Arts finally announced that she was ready to test it. Unfortunately, Elizabeth couldn't be there to see it, as she still had a History of Magic class to go that afternoon, but Hermione had promised to definitely tell her all about it later on at dinner.  
  
Things had turned out rather differently than planned, however, because even though Hermione had come bursting into the Great Hall shortly after Elizabeth and Jane had started eating, what she had to say was not quite what the Ravenclaw girls had expected.  
  
"You won't believe what I'm going to tell you!" the bushy-haired witch exclaimed as she plopped down into a seat next to them.  
  
"What?" asked Jane, her mouth full of potatoes. "Did anything happen to Neville? Didn't the potion work?"  
  
Hermione shook her head. "He didn't even take it. He broke down in tears when he saw what it was ... said he didn't deserve it; that if I knew what he had done I'd be more likely to kill him than to help him... And then ... then he told me - told me that he had joined Voldemort."  
  
"WHAT?" cried both Elizabeth and Jane together.  
  
"Yes, you heard right. Of course, I didn't believe him at first, but when he showed me the Dark Mark ... it was definitely not a pretty sight, that's all I have to say to it."  
  
"Did he tell you *why* he did it?" asked Jane, whose dinner was now lying on the table completely unnoticed.  
  
"Oh, yes. He said he was feeling left out; that while everybody had something to be proud of, he was still just that fat Longbottom kid, who had never done anything special except for being able to hold the record for the highest amount of melted cauldrons for five years in a row, managing to somehow beat even the clumsiness of Joshua and Jamie. The only subject he was at least slightly good at was Herbology, but when even Professor Sprout, who really seemed to care about him up till then, had been mean to him at the end of last year, he simply couldn't take it any longer, and decided to seek his destiny elsewhere. With Malfoy's help he contacted Voldemort and offered him his services, naively believing that with the Dark Lord, he would finally be able to win some recognition. And do you know how he gained Voldemort's trust?"  
  
Elizabeth and Jane both shook their heads.  
  
"He told him about Snape being a spy," Hermione informed them, throwing a quick look in Elizabeth's direction before saying more. "He overheard us talking about it in the common room once, and since he had always hated Snape, it was only too easy to use the opportunity to finally get back at him for all the years of bullying he's had to endure from him. That's why Snape's returned to Hogwarts - simply to escape the Dark Lord's punishment. But he's still far from safe; Neville said Voldemort has vowed to do everything in his power to make Snape pay for his betrayal, and I'm sure these were no empty threats."  
  
The look of horror on Elizabeth's face was priceless. Poor Snape! No wonder he was being so mean; she would've been no different had she somehow come to discover that her life was in constant danger ... with nothing she could do against it.  
  
"As for Neville," continued Hermione, "well, he soon found out that serving under Voldemort was definitely not as idylic as he had thought. The Dark Lord treated him worse than a piece of dirt: he was subjected to the Cruciatus curse almost every time they met, he was forced to do things so disgusting that even thinking about them made him sick ... and on top of all that, there was his grandmother, whose constant questions concerning his whereabouts were slowly beginning to drive him crazy. And then, when he saw that I was trying to help him, even though he was the last person in the world to deserve it, he just couldn't stand it any longer and he confessed ... confessed to what he had done, begging me to accompany him to Dumbledore so that he wouldn't have to face him alone."  
  
Hermione paused, seemingly deciding what to say next.  
  
"Well? Did you go?" asked Jane impatiently.  
  
The Gryffindor looked at her as if to say 'Why ask when the answer is so obvious?,' but eventually replied: "Yes, of course I did. It was the least I could do for the poor boy, after all. Anyway, Neville was all prepared for the Headmaster to send him straight to Azkaban, but Dumbledore said there was no need to go that far ... if Neville agreed to take Snape's place as a spy, that is. One option worse than the other, I'd say, but in the end Neville chose the spying. From now on, he's going to spend all his free time being lectured by Snape-"  
  
"Snape?" exclaimed Elizabeth. "But I thought the two hated each other!"  
  
"Well, they do, but there's no other way. Who else could teach him all the tricks if not the former spy? Besides, Snape's really skilled in the mind spells area, and I think Neville will need to know a lot about that if he wants to successfully beguile a man like Voldemort - the master of mind reading himself."  
  
"But what does Neville think of it?" demanded Elizabeth. "Wouldn't Azkaban be better for him than having to spend all his time with somebody he hates so much, and whom he has betrayed? Snape's going to kill him!"  
  
"He'll have me to complain to if Snape gets too bad," said Hermione confidently. "If he ever needs anything, I'll be there. He has nobody else to turn to, after all."  
  
"Does that mean you actually trust him?" asked Jane in disbelief. "How do you know all those tears were real, and not just a show he's put on to make you believe him? What if Voldemort's sent him out to spy on *us*?"  
  
"Dumbledore trusts him," Hermione replied defiantly.  
  
"I know, but what about you?" pressed on Jane.  
  
Hermione glared at her, her lips pressed tightly together. "I trust him too," she said finally.  
  
A/N: Thank you, thank you, thank you! The reviews for the last chapter were just sooo beautiful, and they helped me a lot, too, because every time I finish a chapter, it takes ages before I finally get down to writing a new one, but your kind words just made me feel too guilty to put it off any longer. So here it is - hope you all like it.  
  
LadyJavert: You're right! What else should he be but a bastard? But he seems to be getting worse and worse ... poor Elizabeth. She's usually very strong, but this time it was too much even for her. But I think it made her seem more realistic, don't you think? And yes, I am and will continue to stretch the story out, as there's still a long way to go. One can't win Snape's love that quickly, after all. Anyway, thank you very much for reviewing again and I hope there was enough Snape in this chapter to last you until I write the next one. Oh, I've also noticed you've put me on your favourites list - you really don't know how special that's made me feel... THANK YOU!  
  
Our Mutual Final Destiny: I blushed almost as much as Elizabeth when I read your review ... you like the story, you think my grammar is good ... what more can I wish for? But as for Snape not pouring out his undying love to Elizabeth - that's because he doesn't love her ... yet. That'll still take a bit of time, because I really can't imagine Snape falling in love at first sight, or something like that, anyway. And Elizabeth's OWLs - I didn't make her get all 'Outstandings' because I'd like her to seem like an ordinary girl (like me - ahem, ahem), and not some Little Miss Perfect. I really didn't want a second Hermione, otherwise I could just as well have written an SS/HG fic. This is also the second time somebody's mentioned Mary Sue - can you please tell me who she is? Is that some example of a perfect woman? Well, anyway, thank you ever so much for your absolutely wonderful review, and I hope this chapter didn't disappoint you!  
  
Tania Nightqueen: I just feel so happy that I've managed to keep you suspended for a while! That was the aim. As for your suggestion - well, I really don't think Albus did it to please the Death Eaters, but rather just to give all the students a bigger chance to get into the class, because I think that a NEWT in Potions is needed for most jobs. But I didn't quite understand the bit about Snape subjecting students not in Slytherin harshly - it is, of course, true, but Snape didn't have any influence on the OWL results, so why should that be a problem? But anyway, thank you so much for reviewing again, and I hope you liked this update, especially the Snape-in- class bit.  
  
Kia Sara: Heavens, no! I'm sure she'd definitely be doomed if she tried that - Snape'd kill her! She needs to give him time, and *a lot* of time at that - well, at least in my opinion. Thank you for reviewing - hope you find the time to do it again :-) - and here's the new chapter!  
  
Padfoot's Girl: OMG, you can't possibly imagine how wonderful your review (and such a long one, too!) has made me feel! I had a smile on my face for about half an hour after reading it! Well, you're right - it *is* depressive that Snape isn't real (as fantasizing about a fictional character makes me feel rather silly sometimes ... but who cares?); it's only lucky for him, but definitely not for us. And I'm SO glad you also think that insert in chapter 14 has made a difference; that it wasn't just my imagination. Also, I'm flattered that you loved that dialogue about the summer so much ... and yeah, I felt bad for Snape too. That's why Elizabeth almost broke down in tears at one stage, because I felt that way while writing it. Well, as for the bit of suspension I've given you with Elizabeth's Potions result - I just wanted to give you a small taste of what she was going through ... evil me. It seems it worked. Anyway - a big thank you for your beautiful review (You also think my grammar is good? You are just too kind, because I'm convinced my tenses are often incorrect, only I don't know what to do to get them right), and here's the new update. You'll see how Elizabeth survives without Snape and I hope you also enjoy the classroom scene. I must say I definitely didn't feel sorry for Snape there. I'm really looking forward to your next review, and don't worry about it being late, I also take my time to update! 


	16. Quidditch

Chapter 16  
  
Quidditch  
  
One sunny morning at the end of September, Elizabeth was suddenly awoken by somebody pulling the covers off her bed, while persistently continuing to whisper her name.  
  
After successfully managing to slowly open one eye, she saw that the somebody was none other than Jane: already fully dressed and evidently absolutely bursting to talk to her.  
  
"What's the time?" she asked sleepily.  
  
"A quarter past seven," said Jane, looking somewhat guilty. "Anyway, I have something-"  
  
"A quarter past seven?" exclaimed Elizabeth. "But Jane, it's Saturday morning! What reason could you possibly have for waking me up at such an unearthly hour?"  
  
Jane didn't say anything; instead she shoved a piece of paper under her nose and motioned for her to read it. Elizabeth, rubbing her eyes while inwardly saying goodbye to all chances of getting any more sleep that morning, reluctantly obeyed.  
  
Attention all Quidditch fans! (the paper said)  
  
Due to the departure of the Wright siblings at the end of last year, the Ravenclaw Quidditch team is now short of both Beaters. For those of you who would like to have a go at filling the two empty spots: the tryouts will be held this Friday at five p.m. on the Quidditch pitch.  
  
Hope to see you all there!  
  
Cho Chang  
  
Captain  
  
"Yeah, well, what about it?" Elizabeth asked, handing the paper back to Jane.  
  
"I thought we could give it a try," the tall witch replied uncertainly.  
  
Elizabeth gave her a suspicious look. "Since when have you become interested in Quidditch?"  
  
Jane grinned. "Since I've realized that we actually have a very good chance of getting into the team. The seventh-years are largely busy studying for their NEWTs, so I don't think they'll be all that eager to sacrifice endless hours of their precious time for Quidditch practice when they could just as well be learning how to transfigure a chipmunk into a bowling ball. The fifth-years have the OWLs to get ready for. I've noticed that most of our fellow sixth-years don't really care about Quidditch all that much. So ... that more or less leaves us with just the little kids to compete against, and if we could only get down to some practice straight away, keep going until Friday for say ... three hours a d-"  
  
"Jane!" cried Elizabeth. "Just because *you* don't know what to do with your time doesn't mean everybody else can afford to waste three hours a day playing around on the Quidditch pitch! Besides, neither of us can possibly learn how to play the game in a week when we've never even tried it before!"  
  
But Jane seemed to have an answer for everything. "I'm quite sure that one week without your Potions books will do you nothing but good," she said confidently. "Not that Snape's going to notice, anyway. And as for us not being able to learn how to play Quidditch in such a short time ... well, you're pretty good on a broomstick, aren't you? I've seen your skills in our Flying lessons, after all, so there would be absolutely no point in denying it. And to be honest, I don't think *I'm* exactly a lost case, either."  
  
"Well, O.K., let's say you're right there," Elizabeth admitted reluctantly. "But what about the batting part? I don't know about you, but for me it will definitely be a new experience."  
  
"You're a decent tennis player, though, aren't you? It's not the same, I know, but close enough. And as for me - I've played softball at basic school, so batting shouldn't be that much of a problem for me, either."  
  
Elizabeth, however, was still far from convinced. "Right, right, fine," she said impatiently. "But now tell me - what is the point of all this? Can you give me one good reason why I should actually go and give all this nonsense a try?"  
  
"Weeell," drawled Jane, "apart from all the usual stuff, like getting to experience that undescribable feeling after a successful match, helping Ravenclaw increase its chances of winning the Qudditch Cup and earning the respect of your fellow students, you will also have a wonderful opportunity to show off in front of Snape. What more could you possibly want?"  
  
Elizabeth had to admit that Jane sure knew how to use the right arguments at the right time, and even though she was convinced that Snape would be more likely to take points from Slytherin than to notice her Qudditch performance, she decided that she could at least have some fun pretending to believe it.  
  
"All right," she said finally. "I'll give it a go. But don't kill me if we won't make it into the team, O.K.?"  
  
"Don't worry," Jane assured her, a huge smile lighting up her face. "So ... can we go and practise now?"  
  
Elizabeth sighed. "Do I have a choice?"  
  
***  
  
Twenty minutes later, both girls could already be seen soaring through the air by the lake shore, maniacally hitting a Bludger back and forth in an attempt to knock each other off the broom, and by the time the three hours set by Jane had passed, Elizabeth was actually slowly beginning to believe that their chances of getting into the team maybe really weren't as low as she had thought them to be only a short while earlier. Because as Jane had previously pointed out, her riding skills were indeed not bad at all, and even though the Bludger had caused her some nasty bruises before she had finally worked out how to make the number of hits and misses at least equal, she still thought that for a beginner, her overall performance was definitely more than satisfactory. As was Jane's, for that matter, whose undoubtable baseball experience easily helped her to compensate for her unfortunate lack of flying talent.  
  
***  
  
The one week left until the tryouts was over in a flash, and Elizabeth felt that had Jane forced her to endure even a minute more of pracice, she would've definitely dropped dead from exhaustion. Thanks to the endless hours of batting, she experienced a stab of pain every time she tried to move her right arm, and judging by the wince that accompanied her every attempt to sit down, her backside wasn't doing much better, either.  
  
When she and Jane arrived at the Qudditch stadium, however, all her pain suddenly remained forgotten somewhere in Ravenclaw Tower as she nervously took in the scene in front of her. It seemed as if the whole of Hogwarts had come to watch the tryouts, although upon closer inspection Elizabeth discovered that it was really mostly just the Ravenclaws filling up the stands, with only a small percentage of students from other houses scattered here and there to spy out who the new Beaters would turn out to be. Elizabeth, clutching her Nimbus 2001 tightly in both hands, stole a quick glance at the tall witch by her side as they slowly approached a small group of people gathered in the middle of the stadium, immediately feeling a little better when she discovered Jane to appear even more nervous than she was. She chuckled: it always helped to know that somebody else was feeling just as bad as her, or, preferably, even worse.  
  
Elizabeth soon saw that the little group standing on the Qudditch pitch counted only about fifteen students, five of which made up the current Ravenclaw Quidditch team including its pretty black-haired captain, Cho Chang. The others were apparently the ones she and Jane had come to compete against - people who, like them, had come to try and claim the empty Beater positions.  
  
"Well, it seems like nobody else is going to join us today," Cho said after glancing at her watch, having already allowed a good ten minutes for potential latecomers, "so we might just as well begin. If you would all please form a line ... that's right ... thank you..."  
  
Elizabeth and Jane, having come last, both took places at the end of the line, all the while nervously anticipating what was to follow.  
  
"Now..." Cho continued, "the task will be the same for all of you: there'll be two Bludgers on the loose; you will have five minutes to hit them as many times as you can ... preferably into one of those targets over there." And she pointed to three imitations of a person on a broomstick slowly floating through the air somewhere high above their heads.  
  
Elizabeth froze. She had barely learnt how to stop hitting the air instead of the Bludger, for god's sake, and already they were asking her to hit a flying target? Sure, Jane had also been a flying target during their practice sessions, but having done everything to get in the Bludger's way instead of floating in a random direction, she was kind of difficult to miss. Looking around, however, Elizabeth noticed that the other students didn't look too comfortable, either, so she decided to just wait and see how *they* do before drawing any premature conclusions, or perhaps even giving up.  
  
"And one last thing!" Cho called over the nervous murmur of voices. "If one of the two Bludgers happens to knock any of you off your broomstick, all your chances of getting into the team are definitely lost. Right ... now - who's first?"  
  
A tall seventh-year boy stepped forward, nervously darting his eyes from Cho, who was now getting ready to release the Bludgers, to the three floating figurines above. One of the other members of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team handed him a bat and the boy slowly mounted his broomstick, now absolutely ready to take on the upcoming challenge. Finally the two black balls shot up into the sky, with the boy taking off soon after.  
  
Elizabeth watched him with interest, and was happy to see that for a seventh-year, he wasn't half as good as she would've expected him to be. He certainly didn't seem too sure on his broomstick, that much she had noticed almost immediately, and it soon became clear that even his batting skills weren't exactly exemplary, as he had only managed to hit the targets twice, being too preoccupied with dodging the Bludgers and clinging onto his broomstick in a desperate attempt not to fall off for the rest of the time.  
  
When the five minutes were finally up, Cho blew a small whistle (producing a sound so loud Elizabeth thought she'd undoubtedly go deaf as a result) and the boy slowly began to descend, at last landing only a few feet away from Elizabeth and looking absolutely exhausted.  
  
After a brief consultation with the rest of the team, Cho picked up a clipboard, quickly jotted something down, and then called for the next person to come forward - a freckled fourth-year girl called Samantha Richards.  
  
Elizabeth continued to watch every new student with baited breath, inwardly assessing their performance and comparing it with an estimation of her own. In compliance with Jane's prediction, only a minimum of older students had shown up, and even though some of the fourth-years had turned out to be surprisingly good, Elizabeth never stopped believing that there was still a chance, however small, that in the end, she and Jane would actually make it. As the line got smaller and smaller, however, she began to get more and more nervous, and even went as far as becoming involved in a little quarrel with Jane about who'll get to go first, since both of them wanted nothing more than to finally have it over and done with. After Elizabeth's reluctant resignation and an irritated wave of the hand, it was Jane who got to have her way in the end, and Elizabeth could only watch (with a rather envious expression, too; she just couldn't help it) as she slowly mounted her broomstick and eventually got ready to take off. And her envy grew even more when she saw just how good Jane's performance was turning out to be, because although it wasn't too long ago when it had been all the same to her whether she'd get into the team or not, now it had become one of her main goals, and she was sure she'd rather leave Hogwarts than live with the fact that Jane had made it and she had not.  
  
Losing herself in thought, she didn't even notice Jane land, and almost jumped out of her skin when Cho had eventually called her name. Very *very* uncertainly she made a few steps forward, shakily mounted her Nimbus 2001, and then waited for Cho to blow her terrible whistle, only briefly turning to look at Jane, who immediately smiled while cheerfully giving her a thumbs up.  
  
'It's easy for you to smile *now*,' Elizabeth thought bitterly as she clutched her broomstick in one trembling hand and the Beater's bat in the other.  
  
Finally the deafening sound of the whistle filled the air, and Elizabeth, blocking everything not concerning the task ahead from her mind, shot up into the sky. Immediately, the two Bludgers set off towards her, one aiming for her head, the other for her stomach. But Elizabeth was ready for them: she dodged the first one (although only barely, as she could actually feel a cold rush of air brush against her cheek as it zoomed past her ear) and, with a huge swing of the bat, sent the other one flying right towards one of the targets at rocket speed. There was no time to waste, though, as the first Bludger was already returning, emitting a high whistling noise as it sped towards her left shoulder. Another hit, and one of the other targets was thrown off its track, before eventually coming back a couple of seconds later.  
  
'Jane was right,' Elizabeth thought with a satisfied smile. 'It really is a bit like tennis.'  
  
Her successful performance continued, and even though she was far from hitting one of the targets every single time she'd made contact with a Bludger, she was still convinced that her efforts would surely make her overall assessment almost as good as Jane's.  
  
As her time limit started nearing its end, however, the bat had become so heavy she could barely lift it, making it more and more difficult for her to keep resisting the cannonade of black balls that was falling upon her. Finally, when both Bludgers had decided to attack her at the same time, she just didn't have the energy to face them any more, and while with the last remnant of strength she warded off the first one, the second Bludger hit her left hand at full speed, producing a very disturbing snapping sound and causing a wave of incredible pain to flood her body. Elizabeth didn't know what she would've done had the whistle not sounded at that exact moment, but, as it was, she simply set off towards the ground at neck-breaking speed, determined to get to the hospital wing as fast as possible.  
  
Her feet hadn't even touched the grass and Jane was already standing by her side, frantically trying to find out what was wrong, but Elizabeth simply waved her away, assigning her to find out the results of the tryouts before even thinking of following her. Then she swiftly left the Qudditch pitch and headed off towards the castle, clutching her left hand and wincing with pain.  
  
When she finally reached the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey didn't waste any time and immediately gave her hand a thorough examination, quickly coming to the conclusion that Elizabeth's injury was nothing more than a broken thumb and a few bruised fingers. A couple of minutes later, Elizabeth was already on her way back to the stadium, glumly eyeing her throbbing bandaged hand and wondering how on earth she'd manage to hold her broomstick during practice; had she been lucky enough to make it into the team, that is.  
  
About halfway down the stairs she had almost suffered another injury as she ran into an ecstatic-looking Jane, who seemed to be paying absolutely no attention to her surroundings.  
  
"We made it! We're both in!" the tall witch yelled as soon as she saw who it was that she had collided with.  
  
"Really?" Elizabeth exclaimed happily, but her cheerful expression soon changed into a grimace as her thumb gave another painful throb.  
  
"Yeah. It was close, Samantha Richards's performance was almost as good as yours, but in the end they picked you. Anyway, how's your hand?"  
  
Elizabeth made a face and showed Jane her bandages. "It still hurts. I've got a broken thumb, and I don't think I'll be able to practice for quite some time, but Madam Pomfrey said I should be all right in about three weeks."  
  
"Well, that's not exactly great," said Jane, thoughtfully inspecting her friend's injured hand, "since Cho said we're playing Gryffindor in about a month, but I'm sure you'll manage. You've succeeded to learn the whole game in a week, after all, so a bit of last minute practice shouldn't be a problem for you, I think."  
  
Elizabeth, however, looked doubtful. "I wouldn't be so sure, Jane. Maybe you should get a substitute for the first match-"  
  
"Nonsense," said Jane in a tone that clearly indicated that she considered the subject closed. "You'll do just fine. Anyway, let's go down to dinner; I feel like I haven't eaten anything for at least a week!"  
  
***  
  
Just as Madam Pomfrey had predicted, Elizabeth's hand took almost three weeks to heal enough to allow her to use it normally, leaving her with only a couple of days to rediscover the secrets of Quidditch before the upcoming match against Gryffindor. And even though there were only two official practice sessions left until then, Jane had volunteered to devote all the other afternoons to an extra dose of training just for Elizabeth, apparently attempting to ensure that the poor girl would catch up with everything she had missed during the time she was forced to participate in the game only as a spectator.  
  
"As if one mad captain wasn't enough," Elizabeth grumbled as she and Jane made their way to yet another exhausting private training session. "I think you're becoming even more obsessed with this annoying game than she is!"  
  
"Oh, come on, Elizabeth," said Jane pleadingly. "What's wrong with wanting to win? I'm sure you're also not as indifferent to the result of our first match as you're pretending to be, so I really don't see any reason for you to complain."  
  
Elizabeth sighed; there was simply no talking to Jane, who evidently didn't seem to understand that not everybody was as crazy about winning as she was. Sure, Elizabeth was also prepared to do her best to help the team beat the Gryffindors, but, unlike Jane or Cho, who were both making the rest of the team practise so hard they could hardly walk afterwards, she most certainly didn't think it was something one couldn't live without. But since Hermione had once told her that according to Harry, a captain who isn't obsessed with winning has yet to be invented, she eventually came to the conclusion that the only thing that could be done about it was to accept it. And so, in the end, she had managed to survive not only Cho's brutal drills, which were sometimes so demanding that she seriously began to consider breaking her thumb once more, but also Jane's private coaching, which was often even worse.  
  
***  
  
On the morning of the match Elizabeth woke up relatively early, with just enough time to get herself ready for what was awaiting her, but obviously not as early as Jane, whose bed was already empty and who had probably run off to get some last minute practice before the time to go down to breakfast would arrive.  
  
'Well, looks like she hadn't,' Elizabeth quickly corrected herself as Jane came bursting through the door before the blond witch had even had a chance to get dressed.  
  
"Elizabeth!" she yelled, instantly managing to wake up the rest of the dormitory. "Guess who's refereeing the match!"  
  
"Um ... Madam Hooch?" Elizabeth asked uncertainly, not quite ready to strain her mind so early in the morning.  
  
"Well, she was supposed to," drawled Jane, a wicked smile slowly spreading on her lips, "but she got called away. So now it's Snape who's-"  
  
"Snape!?" Elizabeth cried, but quickly lowered her voice when she noticed the other girls eyeing her curiously. "Are you sure? You're not kidding, are you?"  
  
Jane chuckled. "No, it's true, I swear. Cho told me."  
  
"B ... but Jane!" stuttered Elizabeth. "I didn't expect him to be there today! It's only my first match - what if I make a complete fool of myself? I'd never be able to face him after that!"  
  
"Oh, don't worry," said Jane soothingly. "You'll be just fine. Besides, even though you might not think so, it's actually good for the team that it's Snape and not Hooch who's refereeing, because it's very probable that he's going to be on our side."  
  
"And exactly *why* should he want to be on our side?" Elizabeth asked doubtfully.  
  
"Honestly, Elizabeth, are you always so thick when you wake up?" exclaimed Jane. "Because Gryffindor's in the lead of the House Championship at the moment, but if they lose this match, Slytherin might eventually be able to overtake them, that's why. Anyway, I'd hurry up if I were you; the match starts in less than an hour and as far as I can see, you haven't even left your bed yet."  
  
Elizabeth glanced at her alarm clock and had to reluctantly admit that Jane was, for once, right. Quickly she threw on her robes, gave her hair a rough brush, and then hurriedly followed Jane out the door and down the stairs to the Great Hall for breakfast.  
  
The first person the two girls saw when they passed through the double doors was none other than Hermione, who immediately cut off her conversation with Harry, Ron and Neville so she could go over and greet them.  
  
"Good morning!" she said cheerfully, seating herself next to Elizabeth at the Ravenclaw table. "How are you two feeling before your very first match? Nervous?"  
  
"A little," admitted Jane, taking a huge bite of toast.  
  
"I think I'll throw up soon," Elizabeth announced glumly, her breakfast lying untouched on the table in front of her. "Have you heard about Snape being the referee?"  
  
"Yes, very unfortunate, isn't it? For Gryffindor, I mean, because for you it's the best thing that could've happened, of course, what with all those penalties he's going to give you... Anyway, it's funny, isn't it? Usually I always support you two in everything that you do, but today I'll just have to forget that we're friends and actually cheer when you stuff something up."  
  
But Elizabeth wasn't really listening to Hermione's cheerful babble, seizing the first possible opportunity to excuse herself from the table and head back up to her dormitory. Once there, she simply flung herself on her bed and closed her eyes, hoping to block all thoughts concerning the upcoming match (and especially Snape) from her mind. Her solitude didn't last long, however, as only a couple of minutes later, the door to her dormitory burst open and in rushed Jane, badly out of breath and looking like her robes had been set on fire.  
  
"Don't just lie there, Elizabeth, hurry up!" she called, frantically searching the room for her Quidditch robes. "We don't really have that much time to spare, you know, as Cho still wants to have a little talk to us before the start of the match."  
  
Elizabeth sighed, but eventually got up, flung her Quidditch robes over her shoulder, grabbed her broomstick and reluctantly joined a very impatient- looking Jane by the door.  
  
"If I stuff up, will you please kill me?" she said gravely. "I'm too big a coward to commit suicide."  
  
Jane gave her friend an incredulous look, as if not quite sure whether to take her seriously or not, but since they couldn't afford to waste any more time, she simply let the matter be, hastily setting off down the many stairs leading to the Entrance Hall and only once checking whether Elizabeth was actually following her.  
  
The stands were already packed with people by the time the two witches reached the stadium, but to Elizabeth's relief, Snape was yet nowhere to be seen. The girls also noticed that unlike the Ravenclaw team, which was probably still in the changing room, the Gryffindors were already out on the Quidditch pitch, and their captain, a seventh-year girl called Angelina Johnson, seemed to be having a heated discussion about something with the team's Seeker, Harry Potter.  
  
Jane quickened her step and proceeded to head straight for the changing room, with Elizabeth not very far behind.  
  
"Gods, girls, where have you been?" was the only greeting they received from their team-mates when they finally burst in through the door. "Hurry up, get changed!"  
  
Elizabeth quietly muttered something obscene, but eventually obeyed, slowly stripping off her black school uniform and replacing it with the Ravenclaw Qudditch robes.  
  
"All right, people," Cho said after a while of tense silence, completely ignoring the fact that Elizabeth and Jane still hadn't finished putting on their gloves. "So far we have never beaten Gryffindor, and I'm convinced that the reason for that is their Seeker. When Harry Potter plays, it is usually he who ends up catching the Snitch, causing Gryffindor to win despite the fact that the other team's Chasers might be better. So what I'd like our Beaters to do today is to concentrate on sending the Bludgers in Potter's direction, and in his direction only. Don't worry about anything else, just keep the boy occupied, and if you, by any chance, manage to knock him off his broomstick, I definitely won't mind. So ... good luck to you all, we have a very good chance to win today, since our dear old Professor Snape'll be-"  
  
"Yes, Miss Chang?" came a cold voice from the door, causing Cho to fall silent in mid-sentence and spin around.  
  
It was, of course, the Potions master himself who had spoken, having silently arrived while the Ravenclaw captain was busy giving her speech. He was now eyeing the girl with an expectant look on his face, carrying the Quaffle in one hand and his broomstick (the newest model, Elizabeth noticed enviously) in the other.  
  
"N ... nothing, sir," Cho managed to choke out. "Are ... are we supposed to go outside yet?"  
  
Snape smirked. "No, Miss Chang, I've come to wish you good luck before the match. *Of course* you're supposed to go outside; the game should've begun half a minute ago."  
  
And regaling them all with a cold glare, he turned on his heel and gracefully departed, with Cho and the rest of the team hastily following suit. Elizabeth, who was trembling like an aspen leaf by now, her face slowly gaining the colour of the grass outside, made sure to go last.  
  
'Ignore Snape, concentrate on Harry, ignore Snape, concentrate on Harry,' she told herself countless times, but it didn't seem to be of much help.  
  
Somehow, though, she had managed to make it outside without collapsing, and was now shakily standing next to Jane, dazedly awaiting what was to follow.  
  
"I doubt you dunderheads will be able to make this game nice and fair, but you could at least give it a try," Snape said as both teams gathered around him, looking as though he didn't care one bit whether the game'd turn out to be fair or not. "Mount your brooms - now."  
  
A loud whistle followed, and the game began.  
  
Surprisingly, Elizabeth forgot all about Snape as soon as her feet left the ground, as she quickly realized that if she wanted to stay alive, she couldn't afford to concentrate on anything else than the Bludgers. They seemed to be behaving even more crazily than usual, and for the first couple of minutes, Elizabeth was having so much trouble fighting them off that she couldn't even keep track of the score. Eventually they had calmed down, however, and Elizabeth could finally see that both teams had already managed to score two goals.  
  
She looked around to find out what Harry was doing, and soon spotted him flying in small circles not too far off, keenly searching the air for any sign of the Golden Snitch. Deciding to also risk a quick glance in Snape's direction, she amusedly noticed that the Potions master had just awarded her team a penalty for seemingly no reason at all. With a smile she watched her team-mates score, turning around just in time to prevent a collision with a Bludger, whose direction she quickly changed to Harry's benefit. Missing him by about two feet, to her disappointment. But no matter; the other Bludger was now rapidly heading her way, and this time, she was ready for it. With a huge swing, she managed to send it flying right at Harry's head, but the Gryffindor's reflexes were just too good. In the very last moment he ducked, causing the Bludger to ruffle his hair as it missed his head by mere inches, and finally end up hitting the most inconvenient person of all - Snape, who had absolutely no idea of what had happened to him, since he was immediately knocked out.  
  
"Oh my god, no!" cried Elizabeth and quickly closed her eyes, not quite prepared to watch as her beloved eventually let go of his broomstick and started falling ... slowly at first, but quickly gaining speed as he neared the distant ground below.  
  
When at last Elizabeth dared to look down, Snape was already lying sprawled on the grass, a small trickle of blood emerging from a nasty wound at the back of his head. He wasn't moving, and Elizabeth silently hoped that he was just unconscious.  
  
"Please don't let him be dead, please don't let him be dead," she chanted over and over as she sped towards the ground.  
  
A small group of people had gathered around the motionless body by the time her feet had touched the grass, and she was ecstatic to see that Madam Pomfrey was one of them.  
  
"He's going to be all right," Elizabeth heard her mutter to Dumbledore, who had meanwhile also arrived on the scene, and was now unsuccessfully trying to keep all the nosy students out of the way.  
  
Elizabeth let out a sigh of relief, but seeing the man she loved so much in such a state still made her heart ache. And it was she who was to blame for what had happened to him! Why in the world did she have to hit that stupid Bludger? Why, why, why?  
  
"Would everyone who is not a member of either team kindly head back to their seat?" Dumbledore called, slowly bringing Elizabeth from her unhappy thoughts back to reality. "Despite the unfortunate incident, there is still a match to be finished!"  
  
"But we don't have a referee!" protested Cho, jerking her head in the direction of Madam Pomfrey, who had meanwhile conjured up a stretcher and was now levitating Snape off the pitch.  
  
"*I* will be the referee," said Dumbledore, looking like nothing in the world could please him more. "Please mount your broomsticks."  
  
Elizabeth reluctantly obeyed, as did Cho and all the other players, for that matter, but from then on, the whole game was nothing more than a blur to her. She didn't care whether she'd hit Harry or not any more, she simply dodged the Bludgers instead of striking them ... and when Gryffindor had eventually won, she felt like it was something that had happened in another world, for at that moment, her world consisted only of her concern for Snape.  
  
***  
  
Three days passed, and Snape still hadn't come back from the hospital wing. Elizabeth was absolutely dying to find out how he was doing, and the fact that it was none other than Fletcher who had been assigned to fill in for him only added to her frustration. Finally, on the fourth day, she just couldn't take it any more, and so as soon as her History of Magic class was over, she seized a chocolate-box (which she had originally intended to give Jane for her birthday ... and which now came in rather handy) and, too afraid to face Snape alone, set off in search of Hermione.  
  
It was only a matter of minutes before she found her, sitting in the far corner of the library (where else?) and bending over an enourmous, mouldy- looking book. Unsurprisingly, standing next to her was none other than Neville, who seemed to have made a habit of accompanying the bushy-haired witch almost everywhere for the last couple of weeks, but what did come as a surprise to Elizabeth was that the two were actually holding hands.  
  
She cleared her throat to get their attention, and then asked: "Hermione, could I please speak to you for a sec?"  
  
The Gryffindor looked somewhat surprised, but eventually nodded and allowed Elizabeth to take her aside.  
  
"What's the matter?" she inquired as soon as they were out of Neville's earshot, carefully positioning herself against one of the bookshelves.  
  
"Are ... are you and Neville dating?" Elizabeth couldn't help but ask, even though she had originally come to discuss something quite different.  
  
Hermione seemed to consider the question for a while, but eventually gave her a shy smile and said: "Well ... I suppose we are. We've been spending so much time together for the past month or so that it just somehow... I'm sorry for not telling you, Elizabeth, but I didn't even realize it myself."  
  
"That's quite all right," the blond witch assured her. "As long as you're both happy... Anyway, what I've really come to ask is whether you wouldn't mind accompanying me to the hospital wing to visit Snape. I don't think I could possibly let another day pass without knowing how he's doing, but since I have no idea whether he had yet managed to find out that it was actually me who had hit him, I just thought it'd be better if you..." she trailed off, giving her friend a pleading look.  
  
Hermione snickered. "I'll come, don't worry. What are friends for, after all? But would you mind too much if we also took Neville with us? I know you'll probably find it a bit hard to believe, but he's actually very concerned about Snape's health, and if it hadn't been for you, he would've surely gone to pay him a visit sooner or later anyway."  
  
"But that's impossible!" exclaimed Elizabeth. "Neville hates him! Even you said so, and that was only a few weeks ago!"  
  
"I know that, but it seems like Neville's changed his mind since then."  
  
Elizabeth looked doubtful. "Why would he do that?"  
  
"And why don't you ask him?" Hermione suggested, slowly peeling herself from the bookshelf. "Let's go, you can talk to him on the way to the hospital wing."  
  
Reluctantly, Elizabeth followed her friend back to her table, where they found Neville absent-mindedly flipping through the pages of Hermione's huge, filthy book.  
  
"Neville, we're going to visit Snape," Hermione announced. "Want to come?"  
  
Neville's round face immediately lit up. "Sure!" And shooting a sheepish glance in the Ravenclaw's direction, he quickly added: "If Elizabeth here doesn't mind, of course."  
  
"No, no, it's O.K." Elizabeth assured him, unable to hide an amused smile.  
  
"Well? What are we waiting for? Let's go!" said Hermione, and swiftly started making her way out of the library. Neville and Elizabeth followed.  
  
"So ... how are your private lessons with Snape going?" Elizabeth asked the boy as soon as they were out the door. "I know you used to hate him, but Hermione said you don't any more. Is that true?"  
  
"Well, yes," Neville admitted. "Of course, when I first heard that I'd have to spend most of my time with him, I thought it was the worst thing in the world that could've happened to me, but in the end it didn't turn out to be so bad, after all. I'd never have thought it of him, but he can actually be quite civil if he wants to. He only gets bad when you stuff something up, but since it's not Potions he's teaching me this time, it doesn't happen that often. But what I'm the most grateful for is that he seems to have forgiven me for betraying him. Maybe he understands the mistake I've made, since he's probably been through the same thing, I really don't know, but the thing is, he just doesn't remind me of it at every possible opportunity as I thought he surely would, and I simply can't express how much that means to me."  
  
Interesting. *Very* interesting. This certainly was a side of Snape Elizabeth had never seen before, since from what she'd had the chance to experience so far, he was the kind of person who was prepared to get revenge for absolutely everything, a simple wish of a good day included.  
  
"Anyway, at the moment I just want him to be O.K.," Neville continued. "I'm expecting Voldemort to summon me any day now, and there's still a huge amount of things Snape and I haven't been through yet."  
  
At this point, the students reached the hospital wing; the fear of waking any potentially sleeping patients (or maybe even the fear of Madam Pomfrey) causing Neville to fall silent almost immediately. Very quietly the three of them opened the door and slipped inside, the smell of various healing Potions so typical for the place instantly hitting their nostrils.  
  
They hadn't even taken three steps, however, when their path was suddenly blocked by the dreaded Madam Pomfrey, who was known for her unqestionable ability to seemingly materialize out of thin air.  
  
"And where do you think you three are going?" she whispered menacingly, her eyes flashing.  
  
"We've come to visit Professor Snape," Elizabeth replied in a tiny voice.  
  
Madam Pomfrey gave them all a very suspicious look (which, under the circumstances, none of them found too surprising, since, with his attitude, Snape was the last person in the world one would've expected to have a visit, and a student one at that), but eventually let them pass.  
  
Elizabeth, although shaking all over, went first, nervously hiding the chocolate-box behind her back, with Hermione and Neville keeping close behind.  
  
It didn't take long before she caught sight of the one she was looking for, as Snape turned out to be the only current occupant of the infirmary. He was half-sitting, half-lying in one of the farther beds, wearing a white hospital shirt (which nearly matched the unhealthy colour of his face; Elizabeth noticed with concern) and reading a book, presumably one from the huge stack that took up the whole of his bedside table. His head was wrapped in bandages, as was his right hand, but otherwise, to Elizabeth's great relief, he seemed to be all right.  
  
He looked up when he heard them approach, and his up till then candid expression immediately turned into a scowl. Elizabeth, however, wasn't in the least surprised by his obviously discouraging behaviour, as it was quite clear to her that for a man who had spent the last fifteen years perfecting his system of student intimidation, it was only natural to feel uncomfortable when he had to allow those same students to see him in such a state.  
  
"Good day, sir," she said quietly, hastily followed by Hermione and Neville.  
  
Snape acknowledged them with a curt nod, but his expression of something between irritation and quiet suffering didn't change.  
  
"We've come to see how you're doing, sir," Elizabeth continued, trying to look unruffled by his evident lack of interest. "Have you already been told when you'll be able to resume teaching?"  
  
"I'll return next week," Snape replied coldly, and after a short pause said: "May I ask what would make you three so interested in my well-being?"  
  
'Oh no,' Elizabeth thought sadly. 'Here we go again. This man will probably never realize that some people might actually do certain things simply because they care about him. But since that's definitely not what he's waiting to hear...'  
  
"Well, Hermione and I can't wait to have you back for the simple reason that we've once again been given Professor Fletcher to teach us Potions during your absence, and even the one lesson we've had with him so far was enough to drive us all up the wall. As for Neville-"  
  
"I am now convinced that there's only one person in the world who can ever succeed in sufficiently preparing me for Voldemort - and that's you," the plump boy said solemnly.  
  
Snape didn't say anything, but there was a momentary flicker of surprise (and was it just Elizabeth's imagination or did she also see something very close to emotion?) in his eyes before his face quickly regained its original stony appearance.  
  
"Anyway, we've also brought you this," Elizabeth said after a short while of tense silence, producing the chocolate-box from behind her back and handing it to Snape. "Maybe it'll make you feel better sooner."  
  
But Snape made no attempt take it. Instead he glared at it as if it were poisoned, which, upon further reflection, Elizabeth decided might indeed have been the case, since with Voldemort's determination to punish him, even a mere chocolate-box could turn out to be a deadly gift.  
  
Elizabeth sighed, and went over to put her present on the bedside table. But she had barely done so when her arm was suddenly closed in a pincer- like grip, causing her to cry out in surprise as well as pain. And even though she knew exactly who it was that had startled her so much, she was still surprised to see just how dramatically Snape's expression had changed in only a couple of seconds: from suspicious to one of suppressed triumph.  
  
"Miss Woodhouse, was it you who had hit that cursed Bludger?" he hissed, looking her straight in the eye as if trying to hypnotize her to give him the answer. "Is that the reason why you're giving me those ... chocolates?" And he disgustedly jerked his head in the direction of the offending box.  
  
'Uh-oh,' Elizabeth thought dejectedly. 'And I was just beginning to think that maybe he wouldn't ask.'  
  
"Yes, sir," she said quietly. "And I would like to apologize, even though I know you'll never forgive me. But it was an accident. I never meant to hit you-"  
  
Snape held up his hand. "I've heard enough, Miss Woodhouse," he snarled. "Now get out of my sight, all three of you!"  
  
Hermione and Neville immediately set off for the door, but Elizabeth didn't move. Instead she just stood there, her grievous expression heart-breaking enough to make a stone cry, but Snape's heart was apparently made from an even harder material. And so eventually even she left the infirmary, her eyes once more filled with tears for the man whose love she'd probably never win.  
  
A/N: Never, never would I have thought when I started writing this story that you people'd like it so much! Your reviews just made me so very happy! I'm sorry for the long time it's taken me to update (well, at least the chapter is long, too), but I had a terrible writer's block. Not with the plot, though, since I already have a pretty good idea of what the story's going to look like, but with my English. It took me ages to put a sentence together! But it seems to be all right now, I suppose I just needed a break. Unfortunately, I am now going away for two weeks to make some money before school starts, so I won't be able to update, but I'll do my best to give you at least two new chapters as soon as I get back.  
  
Obviously none of you saw the Neville as a Death Eater part coming, so did any of you guess he'd pair up with Hermione? And what do you think of the pairing? I sort of see Hermione as the motherly type, so I thought they'd go together well.  
  
Our Mutual Final Destiny: Thank you so so much for reviewing once more and also for your wonderful description of Mary Sue. Finally I'll know exactly who to imagine when somebody mentions her again. Even I, being the beginner with writing that I am (since this really is my first attempt at a story of any sort; the only other things I ever wrote were one-page essays for my Czech school and a stupid mystery in English which I wrote when I was about twelve), know that writing a character like that is not exactly right, if not terribly boring. I didn't really think about it while creating Elizabeth, though, since I just write her according to how I'd most likely feel were I in her situation. Otherwise, I'm glad I surprised you with Neville; I think I've already seen him become a Death Eater in about two stories, but that was only after I've thought of it myself. I sort of saw him as another Peter Pettigrew, but obviously with a bit more sense in him, since he had returned to the good side so quickly. Anyway, I'm absolutely flattered that my story has become one of your favourites - thank you, thank you, thank you! - and I'm really looking forward to more of your reviews.  
  
LadyJavert: Yeah, Neville as a spy really is a little hard to imagine, but I think that with Snape's help he'll do all right. And he's got Hermione to give him strength now, after all, doesn't he? As for Snape - no, he definitely doesn't realize Elizabeth likes him so much, and even though it's sometimes pretty obvious, he's just too obsessed with believing that everybody hates him that maybe even the sign wouldn't help to make him see the truth. He'd probably take it as another attempt to make fun of him ... poor guy. Well, anyway, thank you for continuing to read my story and for being so nice as to review every time! Hope you enjoyed the new chapter!  
  
Padfoot's Girl: Aaaargh! SUCH a long review! I have no idea what I've done to deserve it, but thank you! You really got me laughing when you said that you keep switching from poor Snape to poor Elizabeth ... so who's the poor guy going to be in this chapter? For me it's Snape this time, because, believe me, I really didn't enjoy writing the scene where he got knocked off his broomstick. As for Neville - well, I also can't imagine him being a Death Eater after reading book 5 (I really liked him there, by the way), but since I had the story all planned out *before* reading OotP, I could no longer change it. Hehe, I'm really happy you don't know where my story is going, but from now on, it should be pretty much straight forward ... so no more surprises in store for you. You also said that you think it's cool that I talk to my reviewers; well, for me it's the best part of the story! I greatly enjoy talking to you guys, and I also feel that simply thanking you for reviewing just isn't enough. True, I probably wouldn't do it if I got too many reviews, but with the few I get for each chapter it's no problem. Well, thank you once more, and I must say I'm absolutely starving for your next review, since you always manage to improve my mood immensely.  
  
Kyla Ellayan: Thank you, I also hope to get lots of reviews for this story, but even the four or five I usually get for each chapter are enough to make me happy. As for writing the story from Elizabeth's PoV - well, I really can't imagine doing it any other way, because trying to put down Snape's thoughts (which I only have a very vague idea of ... and would rather not think in greater detail about) would unquestionably make him terribly OOC. Which is definitely the last thing I want to happen, as writing Snape the way you, I, and probably all the other Snape obsessed people, like him is the main point of my story. That's why you made me so very happy when you told me that I'm actually doing it right, and that the time I've spent reading and rereading his lines in the HP books wasn't wasted. Thank you very much for reviewing; here's a new chapter and it'd be absolutely wonderful if you told me how you liked it. 


	17. The dance

Chapter 17  
  
The dance  
  
True to his word, Snape had indeed returned the following week, with his arm still covered in bandages and his behaviour more unpleasant than ever before. No mistake escaped his watchful gaze, not even the slightest diversion remained uncriticized, and even Neville often complained that their private lessons weren't nearly as peaceful as they used to be. His fearfully awaited meeting with Voldemort turned out well, however (the usual Cruciatus curse that had been cast on him not really counting as a sign of something to get too worried about any longer), as did the meetings that followed. And by the middle of December, there was already quite a number of people, wizards and Muggles alike, who owed him and his spying activities their life, since Neville had been quick enough to warn them against the danger of a potential attack in time. The result was, that even his grandmother had eventually forgiven him for his stupid mistake, and actually allowed him to stay at Hogwarts over the holidays so he could be with Hermione, who had also succeeded in getting her parents to survive this year's Christmas without her.  
  
Elizabeth, who could only enviously watch as he added his name to the short list of students staying over the holidays, would've given anything to be able to do the same, but, unfortunately, she knew only too well that her parents had other plans in store for her. Because just like every year, with the exception of the year of the Yule Ball, she was expected to spend her Christmas in the family circle, and she was sure that her mother would turn her life into living hell if she as much as thought about doing something to change that fact.  
  
But when even Jane had eventually announced that for once, she would also be staying, since her parents had decided to go on a skiing holiday without her, leaving her to choose between Hogwarts and the company of her grandmother (and she, of course, immediately pounced on the first option), Elizabeth's resigned attitude quickly gave way to determination to follow her example no matter what. Mother or no mother, she decided to write a letter home, in which she begged her parents to kindly make an exception this year ... and let her stay.  
  
It took about a week before Wilma with the answer had finally arrived, and although Elizabeth had already decided to stay no matter what her mother would say, she still pounced on it the same way an underfed animal would pounce on a piece of meat.  
  
The letter turned out to be short, and not exactly encouraging, but Elizabeth was satisfied.  
  
Well, Eli, (it said)  
  
I don't think I need to tell you that we were not at all pleased by your request, but since it seems that your crush on a certain Professor still hasn't left you, I won't even attempt to persuade you to change your mind, as I know it would be useless. So you can stay where you are for all I care, if that's what you really want, but you will have to take into account that you won't be getting any Christmas presents this year. They will be waiting for you until you come back home in summer.  
  
Take care!  
  
Mum  
  
And so Elizabeth happily rushed off to also put her name down on the list hanging in the Entrance Hall, getting there right on time, too, as Professor McGonagall was just about to take it off.  
  
"Are there only seven students staying this year?" she asked incredulously as she added her signature to six others.  
  
"It seems so, Miss Woodhouse," replied the elderly witch and, as soon as Elizabeth finished putting down her name, replaced the list by a new piece of parchment with some sort of announcement on it. Then she swiftly left the Hall, leaving the blond girl to read it in peace.  
  
***  
  
A couple of minutes later, Elizabeth burst into her dormitory, her cheeks flushed with excitement.  
  
"Jane!" she yelled, causing all of the other girls currently occupying the dormitory, most of whom were in the middle of packing, to throw a curious glance in her direction. "Dumbledore's decided to hold a dance on Christmas Eve, even though there are only seven of us staying over the holidays! Isn't that nice of him?"  
  
Jane, who was taking up a comfortable position on her bed, raised her eyes from the book she was reading (another Agatha Christie; Elizabeth noticed) and leisurely said: "Cool. Maybe it'd be a good idea to find myself a partner then, wouldn't it? Do you know which guys are staying?"  
  
Elizabeth thought for a while, but eventually said: "Well, there's Neville, who I'm sure is going to attend the dance with Hermione, then Harry, but I'm afraid that he might be going with Cho, who's also staying, and lastly ... lastly there's Justin, I think."  
  
"Justin Finch-Fletchley? All right, I'll ask him."  
  
Elizabeth threw her friend a disbelieveing look. "Um ... I don't want to sound old-fashioned or anything, but aren't the guys supposed to ask the girls to the dance, and not the other way round?"  
  
"Nonsense," said Jane firmly. "Justin'd never find the courage to ask me; haven't you noticed how shy he is? And I'm determined to find somebody to go with this year, because I definitely *don't* want to end up sitting down the whole time like I did at the Yule Ball two years ago. Come to think of it, who are *you* going with?"  
  
"No one," admitted Elizabeth. "But I don't even *want* to go with anyone, I think I'll be happy just watching you."  
  
"No, you won't," said Jane, the tone of her voice clearly indicating that any arguments would be entirely useless. "I could never enjoy the dance if I knew that you didn't find a partner. Even if we had to share Justin-"  
  
"No way, Jane," Elizabeth cut in, finding the idea absolutely horrendous. "That's completely out of the question. I don't even like him!"  
  
"All right, all right," agreed Jane, throwing her hands up in defence. "But who can you ... I know! Why don't you ask Snape? Don't tell me you don't like *him*, because I wouldn't believe you."  
  
But Elizabeth looked horrified by the mere thought. "Jane!" she exclaimed. "I can't do that, however much I'd want to; he'd kill me!"  
  
"You're exaggerating. The least he can do is refuse, which I think he most probably will, but you can still give it a try. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, my mother always told me."  
  
Elizabeth considered her friend's words for a while, slowly letting the idea sink in.  
  
"All right," she said finally. "But I'll only ask him for one dance, definitely not to be my partner for the whole thing." And when Jane didn't say anything, she couldn't help but add: "Well? Are you happy now?"  
  
"I suppose. One dance better than nothing, after all."  
  
***  
  
The two nights left until Christmas Eve had turned out to be *very* restless for Elizabeth, as she'd spent most of them imagining Snape's potential reaction to her little request, but finally the both eagerly and nervously awaited day did arrive, and with it the time to get prepared for the dance. Before she knew it, Elizabeth found herself sitting in front her little mirror, attempting to achieve her make-up to look at least as good as it had done a year ago when she had tried it at home, and shaking all over. Eventually Jane, who at first could do nothing but laugh at her friend's desperate attempts to apply the black eye-liner, had to go over and help her, as the time to leave for the Great Hall was slowly drawing near and Elizabeth still hadn't put on her dress *or* done her hair.  
  
Finally, though, both girls were ready, with Elizabeth, according to the opinion of her friend, looking like she was about to compete for the title of Miss Universe. Justin joined them as soon as they left the common room (for Jane had indeed succeeded in convincing him to be her partner), and together they set off down the many stairs leading to the Entrance Hall.  
  
Elizabeth was getting more and more nervous with each step, with her stomach slowly beginning to feel like a whole bunch of butterflies had decided to reside inside it, but she bravely continued to make her way down the stairs ... until she, as well as her two companions, eventually reached the double doors of the Great Hall and shakily stepped inside.  
  
For a short moment, she forgot all about Snape and her intention to ask him for a dance, as the only thing she could do was to dazedly take in the new look that the Hall had gained since lunch. The usual Christmas decorations remained, but the four house tables had been removed and replaced instead by a much smaller table on the right side of the room, decorated with candles and set for seven people. The many candles that usually lit the Hall were gone, however, the only source of light now being little red lamps floating high above their heads, causing the room to gain a rather eerie appearance. To top the effect, a violin orchestra was quietly playing in the background, making Elizabeth feel like she had suddenly been thrown into a Hitchcock horror movie.  
  
When she glanced towards the High table, however, and saw Snape wearing his usual unpleasant expression, all these thoughts immediately disappeared and were quickly replaced by her old worries.  
  
'There is still time to back out,' the cowardly part of her mind whispered suggestively, but Elizabeth ignored it. Jane would never speak to her again if she did that, not to mention the fact that if Snape really agreed to dance with her ... no, she'd better not keep any false hopes, since she was sure that the potential disappointment would then be even larger. Instead she uncertainly set off for the students' table, gave Hermione and Neville, who were already there, a weak smile, and then quickly sat down, feeling her head begin to spin.  
  
Eventually even Harry and Cho arrived, with Cho looking especially beautiful that night, and the empty plates on the table filled themselves with dinner soon after. Elizabeth, however, wasn't paying much attention to what she was eating, shoving what was on her plate into her mouth somewhat mechanically as she continued to throw endless looks in Snape's direction. Therefore she didn't even notice when the leftover food had disappeared, and only came back to reality when she realized that the music had changed and was now louder.  
  
Hermione and Neville were the first to get out onto the dance floor, the witch giving her a small wink as she left her seat, with Harry and Cho not taking long to follow.  
  
Elizabeth nervously watched Jane talking to Justin, before finally not being able to stand it any longer and asking: "Well? Aren't you two going to dance?"  
  
Jane gave her a wicked grin. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? But no, I'm not going to leave this seat until I see how you go with Snape. What are you waiting for, anyway?"  
  
Elizabeth sighed. "Just give me a moment to calm down a little, O.K.? I promise I'll go out there when the next song starts."  
  
That moment, unfortunately, didn't take very long to arrive, and before she'd had a chance to put up any sort of protest, Elizabeth found herself being pulled up from her chair and gently shoved in the direction of the teachers' table.  
  
"Good luck!" she vaguely heard Jane call after her as she uncertainly tried to set her feet in motion. "And the song's quite slow, too..."  
  
But Elizabeth was no longer listening. She had other things to worry about, like the fact that now it didn't feel like there were only butterflies in her stomach, but the whole insect population of Great Britain as well. She tried to ignore it, however, and taking deep breaths along the way, she slowly set off for Snape's seat at the farther end of the High table. For some reason, though, the table seemed closer than usual, because sooner than she would've liked, Elizabeth was standing in front of Snape.  
  
"Excuse me, sir, I was just wondering if..." she started, but suddenly her throat felt as dry as cotton and she couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence.  
  
"Yes, Miss Woodhouse, what is it?" Snape asked irritably, but he also looked slightly amused by her uneasiness. Somehow, this gave Elizabeth the strength to continue.  
  
"I was wondering if you'd like to dance with me?" she blurted out.  
  
Snape looked at her as if she'd just grown a second head, and Elizabeth was sure a refusal, accompanied by a sarcastic remark was on the way. Suddenly, the idea of asking him to dance seemed like the most idiotic thing one could possibly think of. Surprisingly, though, it wasn't Snape who spoke, but Dumbledore, who was sitting only one seat away and who had heard the whole of Elizabeth's proposal.  
  
"Well, Severus," he said, his voice dead serious, but his eyes, twinkling merrily, giving him away, "you're not going to refuse, are you?"  
  
Snape cleared his throat. "Actually, Headmaster, I was just thinking of going outside, to see if-"  
  
Elizabeth never got to hear exactly what Snape had wanted to go and see, because Dumbledore cut him off. "Now, now, the garden's not going to run away, is it? I believe I haven't seen you dance for quite a long time, and since Miss Woodhouse here has asked so nicely, I don't think it would hurt if..."  
  
"Thank you, Headmaster, I believe I get your point," Snape interrupted, and, giving Dumbledore a hateful look, reluctantly rose from his seat. "Well, Miss Woodhouse, shall we?" he asked icily, extending his arm towards her.  
  
Elizabeth, who seemed to have been caught in some kind of trance, only nodded and took the offered hand. Snape then led her into the middle of the Great Hall and slowly, they started dancing. Elizabeth was surprised to discover that he was actually a very good dancer, and she was about to tell him so, but he spoke first.  
  
"Miss Woodhouse, why are you trying to make a fool out of me?" he hissed in her ear, sending shivers down her spine.  
  
"I ... I..." Elizabeth stuttered, clearly not expecting Snape to speak at all, let alone ask questions.  
  
"Well?" Snape demanded.  
  
"I am not, " she stated firmly when she'd regained her composure. "What makes you think the opposite?"  
  
"I think you know that perfectly well. You know I never take part in such ... activities. Look at all the students, none of them are dancing now, they're all staring at us. Tell me, Miss Woodhouse, are you just trying to drive me crazy or do you have another reason for not going to the dance with one of them and asking me instead?"  
  
"I didn't have anybody to go with," Elizabeth confessed. "I was the one left over, but I didn't want to just sit around and watch other people dance, so I asked you."  
  
Snape gave an impatient sigh. "Yes, but you could've just as well turned to any other Professor. I'm sure that Flitwick, for example, would've been more than happy to comply. So once again, Miss Woodhouse, why me?"  
  
"Well, you are by far the youngest male member of the staff," Elizabeth knew that if her previous statement hadn't been a lie, then this one most certainly was, however plausible it sounded, but she couldn't exactly tell him the truth, could she? "The others are simply too old."  
  
Snape, although still looking somewhat suspicious, finally seemed satisfied with the answer, and they continued dancing in silence. Elizabeth had to hand it to him, he really could dance, but ... something was wrong. And suddenly, she knew ... the distance between them was too large. He was holding her as if being afraid of catching some sort of infection, for god's sake! Elizabeth knew that this was probably the closest she'd get to him, ever, but if she could somehow make him hold her just a bit more tightly... And then, all of a sudden, she had an idea. It was a risky one, that was for sure, but she just had to try.  
  
"Sir," she said, putting on the most innocent look she was capable of, "you know how you said all the students are staring at us ... well, maybe they'd stop if we looked a bit more natural, you know, perhaps if you weren't holding me an arm's length away from yourself and stopped twisting my hand at that awful angle, then..." she trailed off, silently praying for her little trick to work.  
  
Snape shot her a look of pure venom, but reluctantly pulled her a little closer ... and Elizabeth covered the rest of the distance.  
  
"Miss Woodhouse, what do you think you're doing?" Snape asked, his voice dangerously low.  
  
"Nothing, just trying to look natural," Elizabeth replied, the innocent look still plastered on her face.  
  
Snape didn't say anything, but he didn't push her away, either.  
  
'Is there any chance that he might actually be enjoying this?' Elizabeth asked herself as she rested her head against his chest. For as far as she was concerned, this was undoubtedly the happiest moment of her life. She felt like she was in heaven, oblivious to the world around her, because all she had eyes for was Snape. Her head was spinning and her knees were feeling rather weak ... so she just closed her eyes and let Snape lead her for a while as she waited for her head to clear a little, breathing in his scent...  
  
'Now hold on a minute!' Elizabeth's brain came back to life in an instant when she realized what she'd just discovered. Could it really be true that the evil Potions Master, the man most people suspect of not even knowing what a bath is, smells like camomile? Elizabeth opened her eyes and sniffed again, but the smell didn't go away.  
  
'Well, well, Professor, you seem to be full of surprises,' Elizabeth thought to herself, a smile spreading on her lips. 'Next thing I'll find your hair isn't greasy!' And she quickly stole a look in that direction. 'Well, I suppose one can't have everything,' she chuckled, picturing the oily jet-black locks she'd just had the chance to inspect at close range. 'But maybe it's not his fault. Maybe he just can't do anything about it - if it gets greasy too quickly, maybe even a few hours after he washes it... I know *I* wouldn't have the nerve to wash my hair every day, even if it did become greasy so fast.'  
  
Getting this far, Elizabeth felt a sudden urge to ask him to confirm her theory, and while at it, ask him a million other questions as well, but after giving it some thought, she decided not to push her luck, for she was sure he'd end the dance sooner if she bombarded him with silly questions concerning his personal hygiene. So she closed her eyes again, and hoped to get at least some compensation by snuggling even closer to his warm, muscular body.  
  
'What? Muscular? Gosh, Professor, you'll never cease to amaze me!'  
  
All too soon, however, the dance was over, and she found herself being uncompromisingly led to her seat, with Snape either not noticing or not wanting to notice her pleading eyes, begging him for another dance. Finally realizing that there was absolutely no chance of him changing his mind, Elizabeth decided to ask at least one of the questions that have been pestering her for the last couple of minutes. Quickly she chose the most obvious one and asked in a tiny voice: "Sir, where did you learn to dance so well?"  
  
"I don't think that's any of your business, Miss Woodhouse," Snape replied darkly, giving her a look that clearly expressed his wish for her to shut up. Which wasn't all that necessary, because at that moment, they had reached Elizabeth's seat, and any other attemps at a conversation would've been cut off anyway.  
  
"Well, thank you for the dance, sir," Elizabeth said, smoothing out her dress before finally sinking down into her chair. And then, with a mischievous smile, she added: "It really didn't hurt that much, after all, did it?"  
  
If looks could kill, Elizabeth would've been dead on the spot. But since she was still very much alive, Snape only gave her a curt bow, and headed off towards the High table, his black robes billowing behind him. Elizabeth watched him sit down and give another death glare in the direction of the Headmaster, who immediately replied with a sweet smile. When, a few seconds later, the smiling Dumbledore had finally looked her way, she, too, gave him a smile, and mouthed a silent 'Thank you' before turning her attention to an excited-looking Hermione who had plopped down into the seat next to her.  
  
"Well, Neville's dancing skills have certainly improved since the last time I've seen him dance in our fourth year," she declared. "Really, I didn't expect him to be so good."  
  
"You didn't expect Neville to be a lot of things," Elizabeth muttered, earning an amused look from her friend. "Did you, by any chance, happen to ask him for the cause of his sudden improvement?"  
  
Hermione's expression turned serious. "Yes, I did. And, well ... he told me that it was thanks to Voldemort that he had learned how to dance. Because apart from having to attend the regular Dark meetings, he was also expected to go to various parties, usually held by some rich Death Eater ... such as Malfoy, for example. And one simply couldn't get away without knowing how to dance at these sorts of events, so, eventually, even poor clumsy Neville had to learn."  
  
So that's why Snape didn't want to answer her question about his dancing abilities! And frankly speaking, Elizabeth didn't blame him, as she could very well imagine just how uncomfortable it would've been for him to talk about something that he'd much rather forget. But she didn't really want to drag *that* into the conversation, so instead she said: "I see. Where *is* he, anyway?"  
  
"Oh, I think he's gone off to ask Professor Sprout to dance," Hermione answered matter-of-factly.  
  
Elizabeth turned around, and sure enough, there was Neville, spinning around with the plump Herbology teacher. She also noticed another pair - Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall, who, despite being well past their teens, were producing the most extraordinary dance creations Elizabeth had ever seen, and from the look of it, they were enjoying themselves immensely.  
  
"Speaking of Professors...," went on Hermione, "how on earth did you manage to get Snape in a position like that? I even told Neville to stop dancing for a while so I could watch you ... and I thought I was seeing things!"  
  
"Even to me it now seems more like a dream," sighed Elizabeth. "Oh, Hermione, I don't think I'll ever get him to love me! I'm actually beginning to think he's not even capable of any such feeling! He remained so ... cold throughout the whole thing, even when we got so close to each other I could actually smell him..."  
  
"No need to go into detail," Hermione cut in, making a face.  
  
"Actually, he smells like camomile," Elizabeth muttered under her breath, hence receiving quite a shock when she realized that Hermione had, in fact, heard her.  
  
"Really?" the Gryffindor exclaimed. "Who would've thought? Wait till we tell Jane ... or ... would you mind too much if I told Ron? I'd so love to see the look on his face when..."  
  
"Don't you dare!" snarled Elizabeth.  
  
"Sorry, just kidding. Well ... anyway, I think you did a wonderful job, getting him so close was the best thing you could've done! Because remember this: if all else fails, then a little physical contact is bound to do the trick with most men. And with a man like Snape, it just might work. He may be able to control his emotions, but I'm sure he can't control the reactions of his body. And I bet he hasn't been this close to anyone for quite a long time, let alone a beautiful girl like you, so it simply *must* have at least *some* kind of effect! You just have to give him a bit of time to think it over. Unless..." Hermione suddenly fell silent, her expression thoughtful.  
  
"What?" asked Elizabeth suspiciously.  
  
"Unless ... he's not interested in women," Hermione finished reluctantly.  
  
"What?" exclaimed Elizabeth, not quite believing what she'd just heard. "Don't even say that aloud! I hope you don't expect me to believe such ... such..."  
  
"Sssh, calm down," said Hermione soothingly. "It was merely a suggestion, and I don't believe it either. No, as I've said before, I think you should just give him more time. Meanwhile, talk to him as much as possible, get as close to him as you possibly can without his getting suspicious, just so that he remembers what it had felt like to hold you..."  
  
"Stop, stop, enough!" cried Elizabeth. "My imagination's running wild already! Tell me, Hermione, how do you know all this stuff, about men, I mean? Because as far as I know, you haven't had much more experience with them than I have ... and you've only been with Neville for a couple of weeks."  
  
Hermione flashed her a devilish grin. "I don't read just schoolbooks, you know. You might not believe me, but I really meant it when I once said that I've realized there's a lot more to life than just studying and striving for top grades all the time. Like getting to know men better."  
  
Elizabeth smiled. "Well, if I didn't believe you before, I sure believe you now. Any other interesting stuff you've read?"  
  
But Hermione never got a chance to answer, for at that moment, they were joined by a rather exhausted-looking Jane and Justin, causing any further attempts to follow the subject to be put off until later.  
  
"Congratulations, Elizabeth!" Jane exclaimed as she wearily took her seat. "I never really believed your little mission to be a success, but aren't you now glad that you agreed to give it a try? Anyway, what in the world did you tell him to actually make him go out there and dance?"  
  
Elizabeth was more than happy to answer Jane's question, as it wasn't often that the tall witch showed interest in her former least favourite Professor, and when she'd finished telling her (as well as Hermione and Justin, who were also listening attentively) about Dumbledore's little intervention, she didn't hesitate and went on to give a detailed description even of the dance itself. She immediately wished she hadn't, however, for the roar of laughter that followed her relation of how she'd managed to convince Snape to pull her a little closer was so loud that it echoed all throughout the Hall, causing Elizabeth to pray to all gods, known and unknown, that Snape wouldn't put two and two together and figure out that it was actually he who was the cause of their amusement. Fortunately, though, it looked as if the Potions master's attention was focused more on the conversation he was having with Mrs. Figg than on the group of stupidly laughing teenagers, leaving Elizabeth to eventually desist from her prayers and return to chatting with her friends instead.  
  
And so the evening slowly passed; the end of it, along with the time to go to bed, arriving much sooner than all the dance-obsessed couples would've liked. Even Elizabeth, who'd only danced once (with Neville) since the time she'd asked Snape, didn't feel like leaving the Hall yet, but since both Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall remained firm, she was left with no choice but to reluctantly obey. It was still a long time before she fell asleep, however (unlike Jane, who passed out almost as soon as her head hit the pillow), since she just couldn't stop herself from replaying the beautiful moments with Snape in her mind over and over again, but when she finally did, with a huge, satisfied grin playing on her lips, it was one of the most peaceful slumbers she'd enjoyed in all her life.  
  
A/N: I'm back! Unfortunately, I didn't have as much time as I thought I would, so I've only managed one chapter while I was away, but even though I've started school yesterday, I'll spend all my free time on the next one and hopefully get it done soon.  
  
Anyway, thank you so so much for all those reviews, I'm sure I never got as many for a single chapter before. I have only managed to get on the net once during the time I was away, but when I saw just how many I got, I almost fell off the chair! And so beautiful they were, too!  
  
Hehe, after how Snape keeps on treating Elizabeth, wouldn't it be fun to just end the story with her realizing that she simply doesn't stand a chance with him? Or even better, make her find out that he really is gay? :- ) Sorry, just kidding. I'd never do that to you, my wonderful readers... or to myself, come to think of it.  
  
P.S. And a little bit of shameless self-promotion: I found some time to do a more detailed bio, so if anybody's interested, you're more than welcome to go and have a look.  
  
Yami no Sutekh (You really seem to enjoy changing your names, don't you? Although this one'll be a bit hard to remember...): Yes, well, I knew it was obvious that she'd get into the team, but I'm really not trying to come up with a twist in every sentence. I just had to describe what she had to go through to make it there so I could finally get to the main thing: her hitting him with the Bludger. I'm happy that you still think he's IC, because it's quite a challenge keeping him that way even in such a strange situation. And this chapter was even worse, I must say. Well, thank you very very much for reviewing once more (yours was actually the only review which had reached me before I went away, so it was even more special, since it kept me going for an entire week) and I really hope to hear from you again.  
  
Sarah Smith: My, hearing that really makes an author feel good. I know from my own experience that there are not many stories which manage to draw me in like that. Thank you for reviewing, hope you keep on reading and it'd make me really happy if you found the time to review again sometime.  
  
AddisonRae: Well, thank you for that assessment, Mr. Weasley ... oops, I think I stole somebody's line. No, seriously, thank you ... and wow, do you really think it's cliffy? Because I definitely wasn't trying to make it that way, but if that's how it came out, I can do nothing but be happy about it. As for the part where Snape tells Elizabeth that he'll find out the truth and it won't take long - well, I've no idea why you like it so much, but the fact is, that you're not the only person that does. I must disappoint you, however, there are still about 7 or 8 chapters to go before he really does find out. Still plenty of stuff to happen until then, though. Well, thank you once more for reviewing, and I hope you liked this chapter as much as the rest.  
  
Shelob: Hehe, that was nicely put - hurting the ones we love - and you're, of course, right. I didn't think of it while writing the scene with the Bludger, though, although it really fits it - literally. Oh, and don't worry, I definitely don't plan to make her hurt him any more than she already had. That's his part - to hurt her all the time. I'm also terribly glad that you liked how I introduced the characters in Elizabeth's first year, because I really wasn't sure about the huge time jump when I wrote it. But nobody seems to mind, so it's probably not so bad. Anyway, thank you very much for reviewing, and here's the update. Hope you enjoyed it.  
  
Kat-tak: Thank you for reviewing once more, I'm so very glad that you're still with me. I'll keep writing, don't worry, and here you have a new chapter!  
  
Kurtfan5678: That was such a cool review! I never thought my story to be interesting enough to get a reaction like that! I, on the other hand, am addicted to writing it, and when I'm not writing I'm usually at least thinking about it. And thank you for being so understanding, because you're right, I really do need my time for each chapter. I never put one up unless I'm completely satisfied with it, so there's really no danger of my letting you read something sloppy. Thank you for reviewing and here's a new chapter! Hope you've somehow survived the two weeks without an update!  
  
LadyJavert: I'm glad you liked it so much, I was afraid it might be a bit boring. As for Snape hating Elizabeth even more - well, I suppose that deep inside he also knows that she didn't do it on purpose, only he has to keep his image and therefore doesn't admit it. So he probably isn't as mad at her as she thinks he is. Anyway, thank you very much for reviewing again, and here, finally, is a new chapter.  
  
Padfoot's Girl: Such a long review again... *sniff* ...thank you. Yes, I've also noticed that I seem to have some new people reading my story, and I'm just sooo happy. So many reviews for just one chapter ... wow. As for the Harry/Hermione pairing - well, I think I'll have to disappoint you there, because I believe that the popular opinion is that Hermione'll end up with Ron. There are signs of it in the books, too (like their endless bickering), but I must say that I don't agree with this pairing, either, because I think Ron'd slowly drag Hermione down to his intellectual level, which, as far as I can see, is not very high. If it were up to me, I'd pair Hermione up with Snape (although I know JKR could never do that), because they're both terribly intelligent and don't really have anyone to discuss their findings with (well, I suppose Snape has Dumbledore, but Hermione has no one). Oh, and don't apologize for going a little off subject, I'd probably never get over it if JKR killed *my* favourite character (judging by your nickname, I assume Sirius *was* your fave; I used to like him too, but when, in book 5, I discovered just how mean he had been to Snape during their school years, all my sympathies towards him quickly vanished, so I didn't really mind that it was he who died in the end). I also know how bad it is when you don't have anyone to discuss the fifth book with, because I don't ... and it's killing me. Well, I must say I had a wonderful time while I was away, but now I'm just happy to be back with my computer and my story. Hope you didn't suffer too much without an update, but here's the new chapter and I wonder if you're going to have a poor someone in it again, because to me it seems that Elizabeth was as happy as she could get, and even Snape didn't get hurt in any way this time. So, anyway, thank you once again for reviewing, and I hope to hear from you soon! 


	18. Parent teacher evening

Chapter 18  
  
Parent/teacher evening  
  
When Elizabeth woke up the next morning, she immediately put on the same enormous smile that she'd gone to sleep with, the memories of the previous evening evidently still managing to keep her spirits high. Her cheerful mood temporarily left her, however, when her sleep-fogged brain slowly realized which day it was, causing her thoughts to enviously drift to all the people who would now spend the morning unwrapping their presents ... while she'd have to wait until summer to be able to do the same. True, there were still at least the presents she'd get from Jane and Hermione, but when she imagined the huge pile that would've been waiting for her under the Christmas tree at home...  
  
'But it was worth it,' she decided as she crawled towards the few colourful packages lying at the foot of her bed. 'Not even the most expensive gift in the world could rival the dance with Snape.'  
  
When she caught sight of her small present pile, however, she was surprised to see not two, but three presents resting on the bed covers.  
  
'I wonder who that last one's from?' Elizabeth asked herself, but decided to leave the sky blue parcel alone for the moment, grabbing a package wrapped in Gryffindor colours that was lying closest to her instead.  
  
"Oh, Hermione, you shouldn't have!' she cried when she saw what it was, quickly glancing in Jane's direction, who was still asleep, to check if she hadn't accidentally awoken her. But Jane only sighed and turned over, leaving Elizabeth to happily go back to inspecting Hermione's wonderful present. For it indeed was one of the most useful things she could imagine, as well as something she had been hoping to find under her Christmas tree one day for more than half a year now - a dark purple volume called 'The Book of Expert Potions for Expert Brewers'. With a treasure like that, there should be absolutely no reason for her to have any trouble passing her Potions NEWT tests, and if she could somehow manage to absorb every little bit of information that the book contained, even Snape might finally recognize her as something more than an average student.  
  
After flipping through its pages for several minutes (and eventually discovering an almost invisible inscription at the very beginning - 'Good luck with Snape!'), Elizabeth finally set the book down on the bed beside her and reached for the next present: this time a medium-sized parcel wrapped in the colours of Ravenclaw. When, after a somewhat annoying struggle with the wrapping (since Jane always took great pleasure in using as much sticky tape on her presents as she possibly could, claiming it was her way of getting the recipients to deserve them), she had finally managed to tear the colourful paper into pieces, a total of about nine or ten different kinds of chocolates fell out onto her bed, accompanied by a short note bearing the unmistakable signs of Jane's handwriting. Elizabeth curiously picked it up, and couldn't help but give a quiet laugh after reading the message it contained.  
  
Dear Elizabeth, (it said)  
  
I think these will come in rather handy considering the way Snape keeps on treating you, and while they definitely won't help you win his love, it is at least something that will calm you down after the many frustrating encounters I'm sure you two are still bound to have in the future.  
  
Merry Christmas!  
  
Jane  
  
"Well, it's true, isn't it?" came Jane's sleepy voice from the bed on her right.  
  
Elizabeth turned towards her freshly awoken friend, who was now eyeing her with an expectant look on her face, and sighed. "Most probably, yes, although I don't think I have to tell you just how delightful it'd be to have a civilized discussion with him sometime ... even if it were to be only once. But since that's about as likely to happen as Hermione to fail a test, there's no need to worry - I'm sure your present will undoubtedly be put to good use. Thank you - for the chocolates and for the letter; you really don't know just how much your support means to me."  
  
"Sure, no problem," said Jane, looking somewhat confused. "Anyway, who's that third present of yours from?"  
  
"I don't know," Elizabeth confessed, pulling the turquoise package towards her and slowly beginning to unwrap it. "But I'll soon find out."  
  
And ripping away the last remains of wrapping paper, she carefully opened the box that had been hiding underneath and looked inside.  
  
"It's a camera!" she gasped, quickly taking it out to get a better look. "A wizarding one! But who could've..."  
  
She didn't even finish the sentence, however, when she noticed a little envelope lying at the bottom of the box, undoubtedly containing the solution to the mystery. Wasting no time, she eagerly ripped it apart, seized the letter, and quickly began to read.  
  
Dear Eli,  
  
I know you've been told that you'll have to wait until summer to get all your presents, but I thought it wouldn't hurt to give you this one now. I'm certain you'll find lots of ways to have fun with it, just promise me not to tell your mother that you got it early.  
  
Merry Christmas!  
  
Grandma  
  
Smiling, Elizabeth made a mental note to send her grandmother a really long thank you letter at the first possible opportunity, but she soon forgot all about it as her present claimed her interest once more.  
  
"So?" demanded Jane, seeing Elizabeth wasn't about to tell her herself, since she was too busy trying to figure out how the camera worked. "Who's it from?"  
  
Elizabeth reluctantly glanced up from her treasure. "My Grandma. Say cheese!"  
  
SNAP!  
  
***  
  
After spending about an hour and a half fooling around with Elizabeth's new toy, as well as having some fun unwrapping Jane's huge pile of presents, the two girls finally decided that it would be a good idea to also make their appearance at breakfast. And it was about time, too, since the Great Hall was almost empty by the time they burst in through the double doors, leading Elizabeth to the conclusion that had they arrived only a couple of minutes later, all attempts to claim their breakfast would've been downright pointless. Surprisingly, though, Hermione and Neville were still there, absorbed in a quiet conversation with their plates lying unnoticed in front of them.  
  
"Merry Christmas, Hermione, merry Christmas, Neville," Elizabeth and Jane said together, cheerfully taking their seats next to them at the Gryffindor table.  
  
"Thanks for the book, Hermione," continued Elizabeth when their friends had wished them the same, filling her plate with a huge amount food. "But it must've cost you a fortune! How could you-"  
  
But Hermione quickly cut her off with an impatient wave of her hand. "Don't worry about it, it wasn't *that* expensive. Besides, it is quite clear that the present *you* gave me wasn't exactly cheap, either. But let's leave this topic, I have something else to tell you. I bet you two won't guess what Dumbledore's planning for the second last day of the Christmas holidays!"  
  
Elizabeth and Jane exchanged puzzled looks before the latter finally said: "I've no idea. What?"  
  
"A parent/teacher evening!" beamed Hermione. "It seems like an attempt to give even the Muggle parents a chance to actually meet the people who teach their kids, and not just let them imagine what they're like from what their dear children decide to tell them. Oh, girls, I'm so excited! I simply can't wait to introduce Professor McGonagall to my Mum and Dad!"  
  
But Elizabeth was already too lost in thought to listen. She, too, was looking forward to what her parents would have to say about her teachers, and especially Snape. What would he tell them about her? She was already used to the fact that he'd never admit that she was good at Potions in front of *her*, but was it possible that he'd have at least one good thing to say about her skills when he'd face her parents? She didn't know, but she was certain that thinking about it just now would be absolutely useless. So instead she pulled out her new camera, and, with a devilish grin, proceeded to ask Hermione and Neville whether they'd mind too much if she took a picture of the two of them kissing.  
  
Neville looked doubtfully around the Hall, apparently afraid that he might spot somebody who could be offended by such behaviour, but Hermione ignored him, looking like she couldn't care less about such a triviality.  
  
"No, of course not. Go ahead!" she laughed, and immediately leaned across the table towards her boyfriend. "But can we keep the photo afterwards?"  
  
"Sure. I'll make two of them," said Elizabeth as she tried to decide on the best way to get the couple into view. Finally, she was satisfied, and therefore also ready for the two of them to begin their little performance. "All right," she announced, grinning from ear to ear. "You can start kissing - now!"  
  
Hermione and Neville readily obeyed, while Elizabeth wasted no time and quickly pressed the little red button two times.  
  
"Well, you can stop now," she snickered, seeing the two were continuing to kiss even after she'd laid the camera down. "Anyway, I can't wait to see how the photos come out; whether-"  
  
But she quickly fell silent when she suddenly noticed Jane throwing meaningful looks in the direction of something - or someone - that was situated behind her, and upon turning around, she soon discovered who that someone was.  
  
Snape.  
  
Oops.  
  
"Twenty points from Gryffindor," he said, an evil smirk playing at the corner of his thin lips. "And ten points from Ravenclaw, Miss Woodhouse."  
  
Now this was just so unfair! Elizabeth was sure she hadn't done anything wrong (unless Snape considered taking a photo of a kissing couple an offence), and she definitely wasn't going to accept the punishment without a fight.  
  
"What for?" she asked, looking up at him as if trying to challenge him to see just what would happen if he didn't give her a satisfactory answer.  
  
For a split second, Snape just glared at her, evidently somewhat shocked by her nerve, being in no way prepared for contradiction instead of the humble acceptance that he was used to, but he quickly regained his composure and, in a tone that would've sent most students running away as fast as their legs would carry them, said: "I don't think you're in a position to question my actions, Miss Woodhouse. Unless, of course, you want me to deduct a further ten points from your house."  
  
But Elizabeth wasn't about to give in so easily. Not this time. She wanted an answer, and not even a loss of two hundred points would prevent her from doing everything in her power to get it.  
  
"No, sir, I don't," she said determinedly. "But I'd still like to know what I did wrong, because I really have no idea."  
  
Snape threw her a poisonous look. "I warned you, Miss Woodhouse," he spat. "Ten points from Ravenclaw and ... yes, I think also a detention with Mr. Filch - to help you remember where your place is the next time you speak to a teacher."  
  
Detention!? And with Filch at that? Now if Snape had only kept on taking off points, Elizabeth would've been fine, since she knew only too well that Ravenclaw had absolutely no chance of winning the House Championship anyway (that privilege being reserved for Gryffindor, or possibly Slytherin), but even she wasn't suicidal enough to continue demanding the answer after what Snape had said just now, as she was sure he wouldn't hesitate to assign her even a month of detention if he felt that his authority was being undermined more than he could allow. So, as it was, she only muttered a quiet "Yes, sir," and settled for a simple sulky glare in his direction as he swiftly made his way towards the teachers' table, an incredibly satisfied expression spread out on his gaunt face.  
  
Hermione also threw a disapproving look his way, but quickly turned her attention back to Elizabeth and said: "Now, before you start apologizing, as I'm sure you're bound to do sooner or later, for asking us to kiss in the middle of the Great Hall, and therefore causing Gryffindor to become a couple of points poorer, let me remind you that we could've actually refused to do it, making the matter in no way your fault. It's just that Snape's got a problem with people kissing."  
  
"Yeah, that's true," chimed in Jane. "He caught Justin and me-"  
  
"What?" Elizabeth looked absolutely bewildered. "Don't tell me you two are also dating!"  
  
"No, no, just let me finish," laughed Jane. "It was only a quick good night kiss after the dance yesterday, but that bastard took points off anyway. And you know what I think? That he's just jealous, because he knows nobody would ever kiss *him*, not even if he paid them for it."  
  
"I would," sighed Elizabeth. "Even for free."  
  
And when she'd made sure that Snape wasn't looking, she managed to at least take a picture of him, which, she thought sadly, was probably the best replacement for the real thing that was currently available.  
  
***  
  
The Christmas holidays came to an end much too fast for any of the students' liking (with the possible exception of Hermione, who was always eager to get back to class), but for somebody like Elizabeth, there was at least the parent/teacher evening to look forward to, which was now only a day away. Even this day was over before she realized it, however, causing her to suddenly find herself sitting in one of the compartments of the Hogwarts Express and speeding towards London, where she was to meet her parents so she could help them find their way to the Leaky Cauldron. For the much awaited event wasn't to take place at Hogwarts, as Elizabeth had naively believed at first, but at the somewhat more anonymous place of the pub that led to Diagon Alley, as Dumbledore, quite understandably, hoped for the school's location to remain a secret.  
  
Finally, after a very long and very boring journey, the train came to a halt, and Elizabeth, saying a temporary goodbye to Hermione and Jane, rushed off to look for her dear parents. She found them soon enough, and after brushing off the necessary greetings, they all set off towards a dark alleyway in the centre of London where Elizabeth knew the Leaky Cauldron to be hidden.  
  
"So, did it matter too much that you had to spend this year's Christmas holiday without me?" Elizabeth asked as her father brought their car to a stop at a red light, knowing the subject was bound to have been brought up sooner or later anyway. "You didn't even miss me, did you?"  
  
"Of course we missed you," her mother replied sternly. "You can't imagine how lifeless everything seemed without your constant chattering. Even the presents weren't nearly as much fun as they usually are. Was it at least worth it? Did you have a good time at Hogwarts with that Professor of yours?"  
  
"I had a wonderful time," sighed Elizabeth, and proceeded to tell her parents everything concerning the evening of her dance with Snape. She had barely finished her narrative, however, when they finally reached their destination, and after a bit of trouble connected with finding a convenient parking space, the family entered the Leaky Cauldron.  
  
Elizabeth immediately took a quick look around in an attempt to spot Snape, but while, to her great disappointment, her search turned out to be unsuccessul, she couldn't help but be surprised by the change that the usually filthy and full of smoke pub had gone through. There was a lot more light, for one thing, and even the tables were now clean and shiny, each one being occupied by a member of the Hogwarts staff. Dumbledore sat in the very middle of it all, like an emperor overlooking his kingdom, giving smiles in all directions and apparently very much enjoying the fact that the line of parents waiting to speak to him was about three times as long as the lines of the other teachers. And just then, Elizabeth caught sight even of the one teacher she'd been looking for all along, one look being enough to tell her exactly why she hadn't seen him sooner. For Snape, unsurprisingly, was occupying the darkest, farthest corner that the Leaky Cauldron had to offer, wearing his most menacing expression and treating anyone who dared to come near him with a look that made them think twice before they decided to speak to him at all. And it seemed to work quite well, too, since while each of the other teachers had at least three parents waiting at their table (except Trelawney, who, not counting the jewellery behung woman she was currently talking to, had only one), Snape had none.  
  
Elizabeth seized her opportunity. "Mum, you can go and talk to Snape. He seems to be free at the moment," she pointed out quietly.  
  
"Is *that* the one, then?" her mother asked incredulously and, seeing Elizabeth give a small nod, added: "He doesn't seem a very pleasant fellow to me."  
  
"He always looks like that," Elizabeth informed her gravely. "Well, not nearly as bad as today, but almost."  
  
Her mother made an inarticulate sound of acknowledgement, but, being the stubborn woman that she was, didn't allow herself to be put off by Snape's discouraging glares and determinedly set off towards his table, with her husband trailing slowly behind.  
  
Elizabeth watched the three of them talk for a while, but was eventually disturbed by a light tap on the shoulder, and spinning around, discovered a smiling Hermione standing next to her.  
  
"Hello," the bushy-haired witch greeted her cheerfully. "I see you've already got your parents where you want them, haven't you?"  
  
Elizabeth chuckled. "Yeah. As do you, by the look of it." And she amusedly pointed to the table of Professor McGonagall, where the Head of Gryffindor seemed to be having a very serious debate with Hermione's parents.  
  
Soon the two girls were joined by Jane, Neville, Ron and Harry (who had come with the Weasleys, since he was sure that his aunt and uncle would've never agreed to accompany him to such a horrendous event), with Elizabeth's parents returning shortly after. Elizabeth threw a quick look towards Snape, who was now talking to Malfoy's father, Lucius, but immediately turned her attention back to her own parents, whom she'd already decided to send off for a chat with Flitwick.  
  
***  
  
By the time the evening was over, Elizabeth had managed to get her parents to talk to all five of the teachers who were currently teaching her, but she only found the time to ask them what they thought about her Professors once they were all finally back in the car, and on their way home.  
  
"So? What do you think of Snape?" she demanded eagerly. "Isn't he just the most gorgeous man in the world?"  
  
Her father chose not to comment her statement, looking as though he was trying very hard not to burst out laughing, but her mother gave her a worried look and said: "Well, frankly speaking ... no. On the contrary, actually. All that greasy hair ... not to mention the hooked nose and the cruel-looking lips ... he *has* personality, that's for sure, but overall I'd say he's quite ugly. Which, of course, doesn't mean anything, for even ugly can turn into beautiful if you love someone enough to see past the imperfectness of their appearance." Here she paused, shot her daughter a somewhat suspicious glance, and then asked: "Eli, how *old* is he?"  
  
"Forty," admitted Elizabeth, staring at her feet to avoid her mother's piercing eyes. But with the exception of a significative "a-ha", the lady in question remained silent, causing her daughter to suspect her of maybe expecting some sort of further explanation. Finally, she just couldn't stand it any longer and blurted out: "I know he's twenty-three years older than me, but I assure you that in the wizarding world, where people can sometimes manage to live even two centuries, it means absolutely nothing! And it's not like the two of us can ever get together, anyway, because I know he hates me."  
  
"Elizabeth, calm down!" laughed her mother. "There's no need to defend your obviously perfectly harmless teacher crush ... even if the man's more than twice your age."  
  
"It's not a crush," muttered Elizabeth, but eventually let the subject be and asked: "What did he tell you about me, anyway?"  
  
It wasn't often that her mother looked uncertain, but she sure gave that impression now. "You're not going to be pleased," she warned, but since Elizabeth had made it quite clear that she was well aware of Snape's opinion of her, and that she would've never even dreamed of thinking that anything he had to say about her could be in any way positive, she finally reluctantly agreed to give her daughter the answer she wanted.  
  
"Well, he said you're an insolent little brat," she began, quickly glancing Elizabeth's way to find out how she'd react, only to see the girl determinedly staring at the floor, "who shows absolutely no respect towards her teachers ... he couldn't have just thought that up; what did you do to him, Elizabeth?"  
  
"I simply questioned the unfair punishment that he had given me," the blond witch replied innocently.  
  
"Well, that explains it, then. Anyway, it went on in much the same way: that you answer back, that your constant wishes of a good day are absolutely uncalled-for, that you try and make even the other students disrespect him ... what did he mean by that?"  
  
"Probably the dance," snickered Elizabeth. "But I think you've already managed to get the point of what he was trying to say across quite well, so now I'd like to know whether my insolence was the only thing you discussed, or whether he'd also happened to mention my performance in class."  
  
Her mother smirked. "He did, actually, although it sounded more like a continuation of the things he'd complained about before. Said you didn't concentrate hard enough in class, that you were very easily distracted, that your essays could be more accurate ... that you are an average student, to sum it up. But I thought you told me that he keeps giving you almost full marks for the work you hand in, or am I mistaken?"  
  
"He does," sighed Elizabeth, feeling her vision blur. So much for her hope of Snape saying something positive about her potion-making abilities.  
  
"Funny. It sounded like you were close to failing, the way he said it. Anyway, let's leave Snape alone for the moment, instead let me tell you how much the other teachers complimented your work in class. Flitwick, for example..."  
  
But Elizabeth was now only half-listening to her mother's enthusiastic narrative. She didn't give a damn whether the other teachers thought she was good; she wanted *Snape* to recognize her as the top student that she was striving to be! But no, she was sure he was more likely to let Malfoy fail than to do anything of the sort.  
  
'He's a stupid bastard,' she thought miserably. 'Of all the bastards in the world, he's the biggest one. So why the hell do I still love him?'  
  
A/N: Well, not as good a chapter as the last one, but that's just the way it is. Anyway, thank you for all the cool reviews, you guys are just the most wonderful people in the world!  
  
The Evil Cup of Tea: That's so cool you like this story so much that you don't even mind that it'll still take quite some time before I finally get to the good stuff. I, for one, wish I could get there sooner. It is understandable that you want the chapters faster, but I'm really doing what I can. This story is already infecting my mind enough as it is, and if spent even more time on it than I already do, I think a trip to St. Mungo's would soon follow. I, unlike you, have millions of ideas for the chapters, the only problem is that I am having trouble putting them into words. It seems like I am, unfortunately, not a natural writer. Well, anyway, thank you very much for reviewing once more, it's absolutely delightful to know that you're still with me.  
  
Yami no Sutekh: Hehe, I'm glad you liked what I made Dumbledore do, because I absolutely loved writing that scene (not to mention the dance itself, where I almost felt like it was me who was dancing, and not Elizabeth). I just had to make Snape dance somehow, and this seemed like the perfect way to do it. It's also wonderful that you like the way I made him react. I just love making him act like a bastard (as I know we all like him that way, don't we?), and I'm simply dreading the moment when I won't be able to do it any longer. Fortunately, it's still somewhere in the foggy future, so I'd better not think about it until I get there. Thank you for your encouraging review, and here's the new chapter!  
  
Padfoot's Girl: Hahahaha! You just made me laugh so hard with that threat about not wanting Snape to be gay! It made me smile every time I remembered it, which also happened to be on the tram, forcing me to constantly hide my mouth with my hand. No, don't worry, I really don't plan to make him gay, because then I'd have to punish myself in an even worse way than Dobby. And Elizabeth won't give up, either, she's a very persistent girl (although the way she behaves makes her seem like she's got no pride at all). I'm really glad you liked the last chapter so much, because I wasn't entirely sure about it. But come to think of it, it's probably my second favourite, the first one still being chapter 14 (or 15, if you count the author's note). I'm really not sure if I would've had the courage to ask Snape to dance like Elizabeth did (but probably yes, since when I really really really want something, I usually do everything to get it), but then, she wouldn't have done it either if it hadn't been for Jane. Well, I must say I don't spend all that much time thinking about what to put in each chapter; it's more the trouble I have with forming a sentence that sounds right that causes me to take so long with my updates. I suppose I'm too much of a perfectionist, since nobody except me appreciates it anyway, but that's just the way I am. As for "The Scene" in book 5 (god, those greying underpants will probably never stop haunting me) - well, I think Sirius was as much to blame as James, but since Sirius is your favourite, I can sort of see why you're trying to find some sort of an apology for him. I also do it every time Snape does something I don't totally agree with (but when he told Lily that he doesn't need help from a Mudblood like her, it was too much even for me). Well, anyway, I'm really really happy that you found the time to send me another review, and I'm looking forward to the next one.  
  
LadyJavert: Yes, I also know Snape would never ever dance of his own will, but I thought if Dumbledore made him, he'd eventually give up and go. Because I noticed that even in the books he does everything the Headmaster says: when he tells him to shut up, he does, when he tells him to leave, he obeys ... and so on. I'm happy that you think camomile is a manly smell (mmmm ... camomile), because I really haven't met anyone who smells that way, so I wouldn't know. Well, thank you very much for reviewing again, and here's the next 'installment', as you like to call it.  
  
AddisonRae: I know the last chapter took long to get out, but I was away and didn't have access to the internet. See, I've managed to put this one up a little faster! But don't expect miracles from me from now on; I've started school and it's really wearing me out, making me in no mood to write when I finally manage to get home. All right, all right, no more jokes about Snape being gay, I promise. Being as obsessed with him as I am, I could never make him that way, so don't worry. Anyway, I'm glad that you like my story and thank you for sending me another review, because reviews are something that really helps me find the motivation to continue writing. 


	19. St Valentine's Day

Chapter 19  
  
St. Valentine's Day  
  
If she'd ever had a worse start to a new semester, Elizabeth definitely didn't remember it, for the amount of unpleasant things she had to face this time, right after she got back to Hogwarts, was undoubtedly enough to last her for the rest of her life, and provided there was such a thing, even her after-life. Not only was she called into Filch's office immediately upon her arrival to arrange the time of her detention (and made to clean all the girls' bathrooms in the castle a couple of days later as a result), but even Snape's behaviour towards her seemed to have changed for the worse. Even when her potion turned out to be absolutely perfect, making Hermione's and Draco's products look almost like something Neville would produce compared to it, was he somehow able to find at least one little thing that was wrong with it, even when she considered her essay to be good enough to rival even the work of Voldemort himself did he manage to discover something in it to prevent her from getting full marks (even if it was just a V that, with a bit of imagination, happened to look like an R) ... it was all the same to him, as long as he had a reason to make the Ravenclaw girl feel bad. And although she would rather date Malfoy than to admit it in front of him, his scornful remarks really did have the desired effect, causing Elizabeth to become more and more frustrated as the time went by.  
  
She had no clue as to what had made Snape begin to treat her in such a way so suddenly (not that he had been nice to her before, but compared to his current behaviour, she was almost beginning to believe that he had been polite), but she could easily guess.  
  
The dance.  
  
She was pretty sure it had all started not long after that memorable Christmas Eve, and that if it hadn't been for her suicidal idea of asking Snape to dance, he would never have begun to act the way he had. And as much as what she had done had pleased her before, she was beginning to strongly regret it now. But then again, Snape couldn't really stay mad at her forever - right?  
  
Wrong. More than a month had passed, and if anything had changed, then his behaviour towards her had become even worse.  
  
'If that's still possible,' Elizabeth thought glumly as she made her way from Potions one day, Snape's latest insults still fresh in her mind. 'What's his problem, anyway? Is one stupid dance such a crime in his eyes that he can never forgive me for it? Or is it more the fact that the whole school knows about it that's bugging him? Or maybe-'  
  
But at that point, her thoughts were disrupted by Hermione, who was until then walking silently beside her, and who now asked: "Elizabeth, do you think you could find some time in the evening to give me a hand with my Valentine to Neville? I've never done anything like it before, you see, and so I'm a bit unsure about-"  
  
"Valentine?" asked Elizabeth, surprised. "Isn't it a bit early for that? I thought it was only the day after tomorrow, or did I get the dates mixed up again?"  
  
"No," smiled Hermione, "I just don't want to leave it until the last minute. What if we got some unexpected homework and I didn't have time to do it tomorrow?"  
  
Now it was Elizabeth's turn to smile. "Trust Hermione to have even a Valentine's card ready in advance," she declared. "It's not an essay, you know. But seriously, I don't think I'm the right person to help you. I've never sent anyone a Valentine, either. Why don't you go and ask those two girls you share a dormitory with, Parvati and Lavender? They look like the Valentine types, only I suspect that their cards go to a different boy every year."  
  
Hermione shuddered. "Oh please, not *them*. I'm sure they'd be more than willing to help me, but I don't even want to think about the stuff they'd advise me to write. No, I think that *you* will do just fine."  
  
"Yeeaah, maybe you're right," drawled Elizabeth, a sudden idea infiltrating her brain and looking like it wasn't prepared to leave any time soon. "I've decided that I also want to write a Valentine to somebody, so you can help me with that when we finish yours."  
  
Hermione threw her a knowing look. "Anonymously, I suppose?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
***  
  
Dinner wasn't even over and already the two girls had disappeared into the library to work on their cards, while Jane, who was about as keen on Valentine as she was on writing her essays, left for Ravenclaw Tower to do some rare studying.  
  
The first five minutes passed in relative silence: after finding a table at the very back of the library, not far from the Restricted Section, and taking a seat, Hermione proceeded to thoughtfully chew on her quill and stare at the blank card lying on the table in front of her, while Elizabeth leaned back in her chair and began to ponder over what she could possibly write to let Snape know just how much somebody loved him without giving him the slightest reason to suspect it was her.  
  
"I don't know how to begin," the Gryffindor announced finally. "Dear Neville seems like something one would use in a regular letter, and if I write simply darling ... that sounds rather corny, don't you think?"  
  
"I thought you always knew everything, Hermione," said Elizabeth teasingly, allowing herself an amused smile as her friend rolled her eyes. "But anyway ... don't you have some special pet name for him? Something you use only when the two of you are alone?"  
  
Hermione looked disgusted. "*No*."  
  
"How about leaving out the 'dear' then, and writing only Neville? And afterwards continuing with something like: 'It's quite a paradox that your joining of the Death Eaters has actually indirectly brought the two of us to where we are today, because I'm sure that otherwise I'd never have discovered how wonderful a person you really are..."  
  
"Elizabeth, you're a genius!" exclaimed Hermione and, with a rather amused smile, added: "It almost seems like you've been watching some soap operas over the holidays, because I simply can't believe that sentence to be entirely your own idea."  
  
"Well, I was bored," admitted Elizabeth, looking somewhat ashamed. "And I thought it'd help me get my mind off Snape ... but really it only made things worse. All those stupid kissing couples actually caused me to think about him even more, because I immediately started imagining what it'd be like to-"  
  
"Um ... I think I get your point," said Hermione quickly. "Now let's get back to the card, shall we?"  
  
Half an hour later, Neville's Valentine was successfully finished, and while Hermione kept reading and re-reading it to make sure it was really good enough to be sent, Elizabeth pulled out the enchanted parchment she'd been given last Christmas to finally start working on her letter for Snape. She had it all planned out already: she'd put her Valentine into one of the Howler-like pink envelopes she'd received with the parchment, ensuring Snape'd read it as soon as it was delivered; give the envelope to one of the Valentine dwarfs ... and then just wait to see Snape's reaction when the said dwarf would suddenly burst into Potions (which, conveniently enough, Elizabeth happened to have that day), carrying a Valentine's letter for *him*. There was only one slight problem: persuading the dwarf to put aside his fear of the Potions master and actually dare to give him the letter during one of his lessons, since the fact that Snape was usually absolutely beside himself when faced with anything even slightly resembling Valentine was, very unfortunately, known only too well. Hermione said that he had even turned one of the dwarfs into a spider once, giving Ron, who was probably meant to be the recipient of the card that the dwarf had been carrying, the scare of his life when the creature had suddenly changed direction and decided to head straight for his table.  
  
Well, there was actually one *other* problem: what to write?  
  
Fortunately, though, this problem didn't last long, for as soon as Elizabeth's quill touched the parchment, causing it to immediately become covered by the already familiar pink hearts, the words simply flowed out onto the paper without her even trying.  
  
Dear Professor,  
  
(she wrote)  
  
I know you believe that there's no one in the entire world who cares about you, nobody who would shed a tear if anything happened to you, not a single soul that would be silly enough to actually become your friend, but I assure you that this is as far from the truth as fire is from becoming water. Because I know for a fact that there's at least one person who'd give their life for you if necessary, who would never let you down, who'd treasure even the slightest display of affection from your side like a precious jewel ... and do you know why?  
  
Unbelievable as it may seem to you, it is because they love you.  
  
Yes, Professor, I love you with all my heart, and although I wish my identity to remain hidden, as I'm definitely not naive enough to think that my love could ever be returned, I just want you to remember that fact whenever it seems like the whole world has gone against you and you feel as if there's nobody who's on your side to stand up for you.  
  
I will always be on your side, just as I will always love you.  
  
Yours,  
  
XX  
  
Elizabeth finished and looked over the paper once more. Didn't she make it come out a little too gloomy? Wasn't it perhaps a bit too long? And lastly (and also most importantly), couldn't Snape somehow tell who had written it?  
  
"Hermione?" she said finally. "Could you please-"  
  
But her friend never let her finish. "Snape's coming!" she whispered anxiously, casting a worried look somewhere over Elizabeth's shoulder. "Hide it, quick!"  
  
Elizabeth didn't have to be told twice, managing to safely dispose of the incriminating Valentine in a matter of milliseconds. Snape, however, with his incredible ability to spot trouble even when it wasn't there, immediately noticed something odd in both of the girls' behaviour, and decided to come over and investigate.  
  
"Well, well, well," he said when he reached them, his searching gaze instantly falling upon Hermione's card which the girl had foolishly left lying on the table, having had (unlike Elizabeth) no particular reason to hide it. "Writing Valentines in the library, are we?"  
  
And, with a malevolent glint in his eye, he picked the card up and began to read it.  
  
Elizabeth looked ready to kill. Professor or not, Snape had no right to read other people's correspondence! Should she tell him something? Or should she just stay quiet this time, having already lost Ravenclaw enough points by her previous arguments with him to last her a lifetime?  
  
She glanced at Hermione, but the Gryffindor was simply staring at her hands, her lips forming a very thin line and her cheeks looking like they were on fire. Obviously no chance of a protest from her side, either.  
  
But before she'd had a chance to make up her mind, it was too late: Snape had already managed to finish reading the card anyway.  
  
"How very touching," he sneered, placing the Valentine back on the table with a look of disgust. "The library, however, is intended for studying only, which means you both lose your houses five points."  
  
"I've never heard of that rule," muttered Elizabeth, throwing Snape hateful looks as he walked away. "You are *supposed* to study in the library, that's true, but nobody can really do anything to you if you do something else ... as long as you keep quiet."  
  
"Obviously, Snape doesn't care about any of that," said Hermione quietly. "If he wants to take points away, he will ... whatever the reason for that might be."  
  
"Yes, and it seems like I'm his target number one these days," sighed Elizabeth. "Luckily I've managed to write that letter before he came, because at the moment, the only words that come to my mind when I think of him are the exact opposite of what one would normally expect in a Valentine. I'm not even sure if I want to send it any more."  
  
But, like many times before, Elizabeth soon forgot all about Snape's unfairness, and so when 14th February eventually arrived, she was back again to being just as eager, if not more, to send her Valentine as she had been to start off with. That's why she paid absolutely no attention to anything around her when she and Jane had entered the Great Hall that morning, her only interest being to catch some less sour-looking dwarf whom she could give the necessary instructions to.  
  
After spending about ten minutes glancing in all directions (instead of attending to her breakfast, which was steadily getting colder), she finally spotted a free dwarf not too far away, who, to her immense delight, even seemed happy to oblige when she had beckoned him to come over. When the creature eventually arrived at her seat, however, giving Elizabeth a chance to take a better look at it, the girl was surprised to see that it actually wasn't a dwarf ... but a house-elf, although the Valentine costume with golden wings that he was wearing made it a little hard to make out at first.  
  
"What can Dobby do for you, miss?" the elf asked, staring at her expectantly with his great green eyes.  
  
"Dobby?" said Elizabeth, suddenly remembering what Hermione had once told her about him. "Aren't you the one who used to serve the Malfoys?"  
  
"Yes, miss, that's right," Dobby confirmed, shuddering. "But now Dobby is free."  
  
"And I've heard that you even get paid," smiled Elizabeth. "So what made you decide that you want to be a Valentine messenger today?"  
  
"Dobby had always wanted to try it, miss. He never understood why the dwarfs didn't enjoy it. Dobby enjoys it very much, and so does his friend, Winky."  
  
And he jerked his head in the direction of another house-elf, also dressed in a Valentine costume, who had just delivered a letter to Jane.  
  
'Well, I'm not sure you'll enjoy it as much after delivering *my* Valentine," Elizabeth thought somewhat guiltily, but aloud she said: "All right, Dobby, I've got a job for you. Could you please give this letter," she fished the Valentine for Snape out of her bag and handed it to him, "to Professor Snape? But not now; would it be possible to deliver it to him during class? During the third lesson of the day, to be more precise?"  
  
"Yes, miss," beamed Dobby, looking surprisingly calm ... almost as if a Valentine for Snape counted as an everyday occurrence to him. "Anything else you'll be needing, miss?"  
  
"No, Dobby, that will be all. Thank you."  
  
The house-elf only bowed, and then scurried away to join Winky at the Gryffindor table, where his friend was just greeting an incoming Harry and Ron.  
  
"Elizabeth?"  
  
"What?" Elizabeth turned around to see who was calling her, only to see Jane staring at her with an incredulous expression on her face, the letter Winky had brought her still in her hand.  
  
"I got a Valentine," she said absently.  
  
"Well, I can see that, but who from?"  
  
Jane swallowed. "Justin. What am I supposed to do, Elizabeth?"  
  
"Well, that sort of depends on what the letter says. Can I read it?"  
  
Jane hesitated, but eventually handed the letter over with an apologetic smile. "It's a bit ... oh, well, you'll see."  
  
Elizabeth nodded apprehensively, took the Valentine from her friend's outstretched hand, and began to read.  
  
Dear Jane,  
  
I'm not very good with words, so I'll just say what I have to straight away, despite the fact that it might sound stupid.  
  
You see, I think I've fallen in love with you. I know it would've been better if I had told you this personally, but I just couldn't bring myself to.  
  
Please tell me: do I have any hope?  
  
Yours forever,  
  
Justin  
  
"What did you mean by that 'It's a bit...' thing?" Elizabeth asked as she gave the letter back to Jane. "I think it's very sweet."  
  
"Really?" Jane looked clearly relieved. "I just thought that maybe you'd say it's ... oh, never mind. The main thing is: what should I do now?"  
  
Elizabeth shrugged. "How would I know? Maybe if you told me how you feel about him..."  
  
"Well, I think he's cute," said Jane thoughtfully. "And sweet. And I like talking to him, even though he's a bit shy. But ... I don't think I love him."  
  
"You can still give him a chance, though, can't you? Maybe you just need to spend more time with him to get to know him better."  
  
"Maybe. I think I'll just have a talk to him during Charms and see what happens."  
  
"Good idea," said Elizabeth, taking a huge bite of her already cold toast. "And don't forget to tell me how it went."  
  
Jane simply nodded and, with a quiet sigh, turned her attention back to her letter, leaving Elizabeth to finally take a proper look at the Hall's Valentine decorations as she ate.  
  
Ever since Lockhart had come up with the idea of organizing a Valentine in their second year, the celebration of this day had become an eagerly awaited annual event at Hogwarts, mainly thanks to its fun-loving Headmaster who was completely obsessed with thinking up new ways of improving the school's Valentine look every year. That's why the Great Hall was now even more pink-looking than it had been during any of the previous years: the enchanted ceiling didn't reflect the sky outside any more, but was instead covered with fluffy pink clouds in the shape of hearts, the tables were lain with pink table cloth, the candles that lit the Hall were pink, the floor was pink, the walls were red *and* pink ... and to top it all off, there was the somewhat hard-to-miss figure of the Headmaster himself, who was wearing robes and a hat of the same lurid pink colour, as well as heart-shaped spectacles instead of his usual half-moon ones.  
  
All in all, it was making even Elizabeth, who was usually quite happy to join the Valentine spirit, feel a little sick. Not to mention Snape, who, Elizabeth noticed amusedly, was looking like he would soon forget that he was no longer a Death Eater and use a mass 'Avada Kedavra' on all the Valentine-crazed people who were currently filling the Hall, Dumbledore included.  
  
***  
  
Transfiguration and Charms, the first two lessons of Elizabeth's timetable, seemed to last forever that day, but then again, that is quite usual when somebody's looking forward to something a little too much. Therefore, with her mind mostly on the upcoming Potions class, it was really no wonder that there were only two things that the Ravenclaw had managed to take in that morning: one being that Professor McGonagall had nearly fainted when she discovered that even *her* classroom had been turned into some sort of 'pink monstrosity', the other that Justin had invited Jane for lunch to Hogsmeade and she had eventually agreed.  
  
Finally, though, the time to go to Snape's class had arrived, and before long, Elizabeth was standing outside the classroom door, only half- listening to what Hermione was telling her, and therefore managing to catch only one little bit of information before Snape had decided to finally let them in: that Neville had indeed liked the Valentine that the Gryffindor had sent him, and that he had written her one too.  
  
Elizabeth half-expected even the dungeon classroom to bear at least some small signs of the Valentine madness that was raging all throughout the castle, but there were none: the room looked exactly the same as it always did, or, if that were still possible, perhaps even darker and gloomier. Seemingly even Dumbledore wasn't brave (or crazy) enough to try and give Snape's sanctuary a Valentine look.  
  
Unsurprisingly, Snape himself looked absolutely murderous that lesson, and ready to start taking off points or handing out detentions for pretty much anything that happened to catch his eye, making even a timed bomb appear like a harmless little toy compared to him. Elizabeth, however, exceptionally didn't pay him as much attention as she usually did, concentrating more on the door and trying to hypnotize it to finally open than on anything else. What was taking Dobby so long? Was it possible that he had somehow managed to forget what he was supposed to do? Or, even worse, that he had actually decided to chicken out in the end, finally realizing what Snape could do to him?  
  
"Miss Woodhouse, could you repeat what I've said just now?" said a frightfully familiar voice, causing all of Elizabeth's previous thoughts to suddenly become surprisingly unimportant. She didn't even have to glance up to see who it was, but she did anyway, only to find Snape eyeing her with a very fake-looking expectant expression on his thin face, evidently put on to at least slightly disguise the fact that he already knew what her answer would be beforehand.  
  
Stupid girl! How many times had she told herself to ensure that she didn't get lost in thought during Snape's lessons? Countless times, that was for sure ... but obviously with no result.  
  
There was nothing to be done about it now, however, so she just settled for the popular and well-tried procedure in such a situation: lowering her gaze, slowly shaking her head ... and hoping for Snape to leave her alone.  
  
Which, unfortunately, he didn't.  
  
"Tsk, tsk, Miss Woodhouse, not paying attention as usual," he said maliciously. "I think you should start-"  
  
To her great relief, Elizabeth never got to hear exactly what nasty remark Snape had prepared for her this time, because at that moment, the door finally flew open and in marched Dobby the house-elf, causing the man to leave the sentence unfinished so he could turn to see who had dared to interrupt his lesson.  
  
Dobby seemed to completely ignore Snape's angry gaze, however, boldly walking up straight to his desk and handing him the already familiar pink envelope.  
  
"Dobby's brought sir a Valentine," he said brightly. "And if Dobby may give sir some advice-"  
  
"There'll be no need for that," said Snape testily, having already begun to undo the seal. "I know perfectly well what it is."  
  
Dobby only shrugged and, with a loud crack, vanished out of sight. Snape, meanwhile, had finished opening the letter, and was now listening to the message it contained with an expression that was completely impossible to read. Elizabeth just hoped that he wouldn't recognize her voice, because even though she was quite certain that she had disguised it (as well as her handwriting, for that matter) well enough, there was still a chance that something could go wrong. This was Snape she was dealing with, after all, the man whom many students suspected of being able to read minds, and therefore anything was possible.  
  
As if somebody had pressed the 'mute' button, the class had gone absolutely silent when the letter had started speaking, and was desperately trying to catch every word that was being said. Snape receiving a Valentine was definitely not an everyday occurrence, after all.  
  
After what seemed like ages to Elizabeth, the letter had finally finished reciting its message, folded itself back up, and remained lying motionlessly on Snape's desk. Snape, however, seemed completely unmoved by its content, and was just about to resume teaching without even the slightest reference to what he'd just been forced to hear when Draco, apparently unable to restrain himself, suddenly asked: "Sir, have you got any idea who the letter was from?"  
  
"No, Mr. Malfoy," Snape replied coldly, and Elizabeth was suddenly sure that had the question come from a different student, Snape would've given them detention straight away ... instead of a decent answer. But since Draco had always been able to get away with absolutely everything... "I'd say it is quite evident that it was merely a poor attempt at a joke. And as soon as I find out who the joker is, I shall make sure that they're expelled."  
  
'No, no, *no*!' Elizabeth thought frustratedly. 'It was *not* a joke! How could he possibly think that after all the feeling I've put into that letter? But then again, what did I expect? Even if the Valentine *had* affected him in any way, he'd never admit it, least of all in front of a class.'  
  
Thankfully, Draco hadn't had his last word yet. "But sir?" he said, completely ignoring Snape's discouraging tone. "What if it wasn't a joke? It sure sounded pretty genuine to me."  
  
Poor Draco. That made it sound almost like he himself was the author of the letter, and for the first time in her life, Elizabeth couldn't help but feel a little sorry for him.  
  
"What do you mean, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape asked suspiciously. "Do you know who the author is?"  
  
"N ... no, sir," stammered Draco. "I just thought that maybe somebody-"  
  
Snape, however, quickly cut him off, obviously anticipating what Draco was about to say and feeling the need to prevent it. "Enough, Mr. Malfoy," he snarled. "One more word about that blasted Valentine and I shall have you put in detention for the rest of the month."  
  
'Now, *that* would be a first,' Elizabeth thought amusedly, her previous sympathy for the boy vanishing as abruptly as it had come with the vision of him finally getting punished for once. "Come on, Malfoy, keep it up!'  
  
But evidently even Draco had finally noticed that Snape wasn't quite his usual self that day, and chose to remain silent for the rest of the lesson.  
  
'Well, so much for my Valentine,' sighed Elizabeth, quickly turning her attention back to Snape who had meanwhile returned to his lecture about the properties of moonstone. For there was absolutely no way she'd allow him to catch her off guard once more, the one time at the beginning of the lesson being enough to last her for at least another month. But ... hang on! Now that she thought about it - how come he didn't take any points off her? Is it possible that he had forgotten? No, that was improbable, since she knew only too well that Snape had so far never failed to deduct points from a house that was not his own when he'd had the chance, and the fact that *she* was the one whom he was supposed to punish this time only made it an added bonus for him. Maybe he was just waiting for the end of the lesson then, simply to produce a more dramatic effect.  
  
But no: the bell rang, the students began to slowly file out of the classroom, and still Snape hadn't said a thing about Elizabeth's punishment; he simply stood impassively by his desk, gazing into empty space, apparently deep in thought. Maybe it was this that had inspired Elizabeth with a sudden idea, she didn't really know, but the fact was, that she was now quite certain as to why Snape hadn't taken those points off her.  
  
Her Valentine.  
  
There was simply no other explanation for his sudden forgetfulness, meaning the letter must have affected him a lot more than he was letting on. But if that was the case, then he was bound to give the matter at least *some* thought, which *could* eventually lead him to the conclusion that the letter was, in fact, meant sincerely, and definitely not as a joke. Which, under the circumstances, was just enough to keep Elizabeth happy.  
  
A/N: Finally a new chapter! I've discovered that school, my brother taking up the computer during the few days that I've had time to write, stupid autumn weather that makes me sleepy all the time and my story just don't go together. Otherwise this chapter would've been out at least a week ago.  
  
Anyway, sooo many reviews for the last chapter! Thank you, thank you, thank you! I love you all!  
  
The Evil Cup of Tea: Hahaha, such a funny review, and thank you so much for your kind words about my writing. Yes, I'm doing what I can to keep the characters in character ... well, especially Snape, because he's the one that matters most, isn't he? I absolutely despise the stories where he acts nice - yuck! Well, thank you very much for reviewing and I hope your memory has one of its better days when you read this chapter so you don't forget to review it :-)  
  
Padfoot's Girl: Perfectionists might be good, but they do have a hard life. It would be so much easier to simply say: 'It doesn't matter, anyway' and just get on with it. Oh well, can't change it, so I'll just have to live with it. Anyway, I think Elizabeth's Mum didn't take Snape too seriously, so that's why she didn't protest when he said what he did. Most of it was sort of true (only greatly exaggerated), anyway, so there was really no point in arguing with him. I wasn't really going to include anything more about the detention, because I just didn't think it that important, but since you were curious about what Filch'd make her do, I've changed my mind and decided to mention it, after all. As for Elizabeth managing to take Snape's picture - well, he had to look down at his food sometime (at least I can't eat without glancing at my plate every now and then), so she just picked the right moment. I've also read that Snape's 35 or 36, but that was in Harry's (and Elizabeth's) first year, so he can't really be the same age in his sixth year as well (even though I wouldn't mind in the least). Anyway, thank you for your (as always) wonderful review and here's the new chapter!  
  
Sarah Smith: I'm so glad you liked the new chapters, hope you like this one too. Yes, the dance scene is also one of my favourites; I just couldn't resist writing it. Well, thank you very much for reviewing once more, and I hope to hear from you again sometime.  
  
LadyJavert: Poo poo bumhead - yes, I think that describes him perfectly! As for his taking points off for kissing - I haven't thought that up actually, because he really did do it in the fourth book ... during the Yule Ball when he went outside and blasted rose bushes apart to reveal kissing students whom he took points from. Well, I can't really see Snape burst out laughing, but it'd sure be fun. I think the students'd never get over it. Anyway, thank you for reviewing once more, and here's the new 'installment' :-)  
  
Yami no Sutekh: I'm glad you liked it, I just thought it'd be nice to see what a Hogwarts parent/teacher evening would look like. It was very easy to imagine, actually. Well, I must say you're the only one who saw the main idea of this chapter - that Snape (despite what some other fanfic authors say) really isn't attractive, and that the only reason Elizabeth thinks so is because she loves him so much. That was actually the only thing I knew I wanted to put into the chapter when I started writing it; the rest I just made up along the way. Anyway, thank you very much for your review and I'm looking forward to the next one.  
  
Dragon Faere: Ten points to whichever house you belong to! I was already beginning to think nobody'd notice, but yes, with Jane Austen being my second favourite author right after Rowling, I did get the name Woodhouse from her. But Elizabeth and Jane are simply translations of my name and the name of my best friend; it was only later that I realized that they, too, actually appear in Austen's books. And don't worry, Snape and Elizabeth will get together in the end; I don't think I could write it any other way. Unhappy endings featuring Snape are just wrong, in my opinion. Anyway, I'm glad you like the story and thank you for reviewing! P.S. Don't want to sound like somebody's mother, but you never answered my question about the enchanted parchment. :-) If you've read it, that is.  
  
XxDarkGoddessxX: Thank you, I'm glad you're enjoying it. Here's the new update; I hope you enjoy that as well. And I really like your nickname!  
  
AddisonRae: Wow! How can you possibly manage all that stuff? I don't really do any after-school activities, because for me, university is bad enough in itself. I usually feel so drained when I get home that I can't even think straight, let alone write. Hehe, glad you liked the last chapter; it was really fun imagining what horrible stuff Snape would most likely say about Elizabeth. And "insolent brat" just sounded good. Well, I can't but agree with you: a gay Snape is *very* wrong and the story wouldn't really have any point if I made him that way. What did you mean about not dropping the subject? I didn't quite get that. Anyway, thank you for your encouraging review and here's the new chapter ... finally.  
  
Kurtfan5678: That's quite all right; just the fact that you've reviewed at all is enough to keep me happy. Thank you! 


	20. All Fools' Day

Chapter 20  
  
All Fools' Day  
  
Winter had slowly turned into spring, but apart from the weather conditions, nothing else had changed: Snape was still treating Elizabeth like she was nothing more than a piece of dirt stuck on the sole of his shoe, and she still hadn't quite grown used to it. He didn't even look at her any more unless he absolutely had to, which, on one hand, suited her perfectly, since she could at least stare at him as much as she wanted without him noticing, but on the other, it bothered her more than she was willing to admit. Fortunately, though, there was at least *one* thing that could reliably improve her mood every time she was feeling down, and that was changing into her Animagus form. It seemed as if all of her troubles were suddenly part of a different world every time she entered her new, furry body; almost as if every one of her human worries got left behind in the old one. That's why the silhouette of a black and white cat prowling the corridors of the Hogwarts castle was slowly becoming a more and more frequent sight as the time went by: usually it would be alone, but on many occasions it was known to have appeared in the company of another, ginger- coloured cat, whose human name was, of course, none other than Hermione Granger.  
  
One Wednesday morning at the beginning of April, Elizabeth was once again fighting off a depression in her cat form (this time without Hermione), when she was suddenly grabbed by the tail and somebody's voice said: "I've finally caught you now, you nasty little rat-catcher!"  
  
For one tiny moment, Elizabeth thought she'd probably die of shock, but somehow she had managed to recover, change back into her human form, and finally spin around to see who her attacker was in less than three seconds, only to find Jane laughing her head off and trying to choke out something that sounded suspiciously like "April Fool!"  
  
Elizabeth, however, wasn't pleased. "Jane! You scared the hell out of me!" she cried, her shrill voice echoing all throughout the corridor. "And stop laughing, it wasn't funny at all."  
  
"Maybe not for you," said Jane, wiping tears from her eyes with the back of her hand, "but for me it was. You should have seen your face!"  
  
Elizabeth only glared at her, despite the fact that she was no longer angry. In fact, she had already started plotting revenge.  
  
Jane, however, didn't know any of that, and therefore decided not to push her luck any longer and change the subject instead.  
  
"Well, anyway," she said, desperately trying to keep her face straight, "I've come to tell you that if you don't hurry up, you'll be late for breakfast. And I don't really think you'd want to do that, because I've heard that Dumbledore's got some kind of announcement to make."  
  
Elizabeth, her curiosity aroused, immediately stopped any pretences and simply asked: "What announcement?"  
  
Jane shrugged. "I'm not sure. Something to do with the fact that today's April 1st, though."  
  
Indeed it was, for as soon as the noise in the Great Hall (which was unusually packed that day, since almost everybody had come to find out what the Headmaster would have to say) had died down, Dumbledore stood up, graced them all with a huge smile, and then said: "As I'm sure you're all well aware, today is known as All Fools' Day. But while in the course of the previous years, the staff," he shot a meaningful look in Snape's and McGonagall's direction, "had always managed to persuade me to forbid any pranks to be played on them, this year I have decided to make a little exception, as I think that with Voldemort on the rise, a hearty laugh will do us all nothing but good. Therefore I give each class permission to play one, I repeat - *one*, joke on every teacher they are fortunate enough to have today ... and get away with it. So, my dear colleagues...," Dumbledore turned towards the staff once more, the corners of his mouth twitching, "no point deductions..." (Snape, who had until then been trying to look as though none of this had anything to do with him, now threw the Headmaster one of his most dangerous looks, but, needless to say, with absolutely no result) "...and no detentions today..." (the clash of anger and terrible disappointment in Snape's expression was unforgettable) "...let the young ones have some fun for once. Have a wonderful day!"  
  
Dumbledore finished and sat down, his eyes twinkling more than ever. Elizabeth, however, was no longer paying him any attention, being too preoccupied with her own thoughts to do so. For she had just realized that her third class that day was none other than Potions with Snape ... and that she had only two lessons to think of something nasty to do to him. This was the perfect opportunity to finally get back at him for all his insults, after all, because love or no love, he definitely deserved it. Maybe Hermione and the rest of her NEWT Potions class would help her think of something...  
  
But the Gryffindor seemed to have other things on her mind when Elizabeth met with her before the start of their Transfiguration class, mainly her lead role in the class's prank on Professor McGonagall ... as well as the organization of the joke planned for Mrs. Figg, which Hermione had, for reasons unknown, also been put in charge of. Ernie and Hannah's contribution to the matter wasn't much better, either, because although they had promised to definitely try and think of something the class could do to Snape, they absolutely refused to participate in the prank itself, their fear of the Potions master being just too great. And as for Draco and Pansy ... well, Elizabeth didn't even dare to ask those two.  
  
Transfiguration was over much too fast, and Elizabeth still hadn't thought of anything clever enough to say that, although completely untrue, would sound probable, making it at least slightly possible for Snape to buy. Sure, she could always settle for some spell or other that would either set his robes on fire, turn his hair pink, or perhaps even expose his underwear (err ... she probably wouldn't get away with that one, anyway), but that wasn't quite what she wanted. Some joke featuring only smartly chosen words was what she was really looking for; something a bit like what Hermione had done in Transfiguration (having, for the first time in her life, answered "I don't know" to one of McGonagall's questions, causing the Head of Gryffindor to look like she'd been slapped across the face for a while, or at least until Hermione had finally decided to yell "April Fool!" and quickly deliver the correct answer), only, if possible, a little better.  
  
There was no time to follow such thoughts, however, because faster than she could say 'swish and flick', the next lesson, Charms, had arrived, and with it the time for another joke ... this time involving the whole class. Elizabeth couldn't help but smile: she was really looking forward to this one, because although she liked her Head of House very much, his absent- mindedness really could get a little frustrating sometimes. It was actually Jane's idea to make use of it for once, and Elizabeth hoped with all her heart that the plan would turn out well.  
  
It was all really very simple and, just like Hermione's joke, required absolutely no magic: all the class had to do was to hide in the small chamber adjoining the Charms classroom, stay quiet, and then just watch Flitwick's reaction to the sudden disapperance of his students. And later, of course, remember to run out and yell "April Fool!" and proceed to laugh themselves silly.  
  
"Hey, Jane, what do you think his reaction will be?" asked Elizabeth quietly as she, her friend and the rest of the class finally found themselves crowded in the tiny room, waiting for Flitwick's arrival.  
  
"I don't know. But I hope he thinks that he's got his timetable mixed up again. He's done it before, remember? Came when he wasn't supposed to ... and vice versa."  
  
"Yeah, and more than once," agreed Elizabeth and, sensing the perfect opportunity, casually added: "By the way, I'd do something about that skirt of yours if I were you. I think you must've ripped it somewhere."  
  
Jane, her mind still on the result of their joke on Flitwick rather than on keeping an eye out for any potential revenge from Elizabeth, immediately rose to the bait.  
  
"What? Where?" she exclaimed, frantically searching her skirt for any sign of the non-existent tear.  
  
Elizabeth pointed to the most impossible-to-have-a-look-at part of Jane's garment. "Right there."  
  
Jane almost fell over in her desperate attempt to spot the flaw, earning quite a few grunts from her class mates whom she had managed to successfully elbow in the ribs.  
  
Finally, Elizabeth simply couldn't stand it any longer and collapsed in a set of uncontrolable giggles, barely managing to call "April Fool!" before she did so.  
  
"That is so not funny," proclaimed Jane, straightening her skirt.  
  
"Yes, it is," laughed Elizabeth. "It's totally hilarious how this joke works simply every time!"  
  
"Shup up, you two!" somebody shouted angrily from the back of the room. "Flitwick should arrive any minute now!"  
  
Elizabeth had to admit that whoever had said that was, of course, right, and her giggles quickly subsided. Jane also chose not to speak again, but couldn't resist shooting her friend a menacing glare every now and then.  
  
Professor Flitwick arrived about half a minute later, and Elizabeth almost burst out laughing again when she saw his confused expression through the slightly open door.  
  
"Not again!" she heard him mutter. "Wrong time!"  
  
And with that, the tiny wizard turned around and began to leave, still muttering something like "But I could've *sworn* that I had a lesson now!" and shaking his head.  
  
"Now!" whispered Jane and, energetically opening the heavy door all the way, burst into the deserted classroom, closely followed by the rest of her class mates.  
  
"APRIL FOOL!" they all yelled at the top of their lungs, causing Flitwick to immediately spin around in shock as well as surprise.  
  
"Oh m ... my," he stuttered, desperately trying to regain his lost composure. "You've r ... really startled me there." And then, with a sudden smile, he added: "But it was good, very good! I really thought I've made a mistake and come to teach at the wrong time!"  
  
"That was the point," Jane whispered to Elizabeth as they slowly made their way towards their seats, both shaking with laughter.  
  
As the lesson started nearing its end, however, Elizabeth's expression was slowly turning more and more serious, for she *still* hadn't managed to figure out what she could possibly do to Snape.  
  
She met with the rest of her class mates for his lesson outside the Potions classroom, but, to her endless disappointment, nor Ernie, nor Hannah had managed to think of anything good to do to him either, and were now even advising her to just give the whole 'April Fool on Snape' idea up, arguing with the fact that she'd at least save herself a huge amount of trouble, not to mention prevent Snape from holding a lifetime grudge against her.  
  
'He's already got a lifetime grudge against me anyway,' Elizabeth thought dejectedly as she slowly shuffled into the classroom, looking sideways just in time to see Snape throw her one of his famous death glares.  
  
However, she soon noticed that this time she wasn't actually the only one who was being subjected to Snape's never-ending supply of hate, seeing the other students were exceptionally receiving the same treatment as she was. There was really no doubt as to the reason of this anomaly, either, for it was quite obvious that the looks Snape was giving them was simply his way of warning them not to even think about trying to play some sort of joke on him ... or else.  
  
Elizabeth clenched her fists in frustration; she simply couldn't let him have his way! Even if she had to do something completely stupid, she would ... just to show him that even though the others might be too afraid to come up with some kind of prank on him, she definitely wasn't.  
  
'Then again, maybe that won't be necessary,' she thought with a wicked grin, Snape's first words inspiring her with a sudden idea. A great idea for an excellent prank!  
  
"I believe I've given you some homework last lesson," he said, sweeping over to his desk and turning around to face them, "which I want you all to hand in to me ... *now*."  
  
What if she pretended that she had forgotten her homework in the Ravenclaw common room? It had happened to her before (to her great embarrassment, too), so it shouldn't look too suspicious, and on top of that, Snape was always absolutely bursting to find even the slightest thing that she had done wrong, meaning he *could* momentarily forget all about All Fools' Day in his eagerness to punish her. She had to make it all look very *very* convincing, however, because she knew only too well that one small slip could easily be just enough to give her away.  
  
But to her it was definitely worth the risk, and so, as the rest of the class hastily got up to hand in their papers, Elizabeth remained in her seat, feverishly pretending to search her bag in a desperate attempt to find her missing homework.  
  
It didn't take long before all the students had eventually returned to their seats, and Elizabeth didn't even have to look up to know that Snape's attention was now all on her.  
  
"Is there a problem, Miss Woodhouse?" he asked finally, sounding very much like he wished there was. "Surely you haven't forgotten your homework?"  
  
Elizabeth slowly glanced up, trying to look as guilty as she possibly could.  
  
"I ... I think I have, sir," she said meekly. "I must've left it up in the common room. But I could go and get it right now if-"  
  
"I don't think so," Snape cut her off in that ever so silky voice of his. "I'm giving you zero marks for the homework, and I think I'll also deduct-"  
  
"You can't do that, sir," protested Elizabeth, inwardly already celebrating victory. She simply couldn't believe that he had bought it! Yes! Yes! Yes!  
  
Snape's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, Miss Woodhouse?" he asked in his most dangerous voice.  
  
"I mean - APRIL FOOL!" Elizabeth yelled, pulling her homework out of her bag with a flourish. "My homework's right here."  
  
For a short moment, Snape was left completely speechless, the only way to tell what was going on in his mind being through his rather expressive eyes, which were currently flashing like two burning coals and clearly reflecting a mixture of anger and surprise.  
  
Finally, after what seemed like ages to Elizabeth, but was probably only a second or two, he determinedly strode over to her table and held out his hand.  
  
"Give me the homework," he ordered quietly.  
  
Elizabeth hastily obeyed, nervously awaiting what was to follow. She couldn't think of anything that he could possibly do to her, but was sure it would be far from good.  
  
Snape, however, didn't say anything and simply glared down at her for a while, before his lips finally spread out in a triumphant smile.  
  
"I would've thought you wiser than to try and outsmart me, Miss Woodhouse," he said slowly, his hypnotizing black eyes boring into hers. "Obviously, I have overestimated you. Perhaps you need something to remind you not to ever play jokes on me again. How about an essay, Miss Woodhouse? Five rolls of parchment on the uses of asphodel in potion-making - to be handed in next lesson."  
  
"But ... you can't ... the Headmaster said..." Elizabeth spluttered, too angry to produce a coherent sentence. He simply couldn't punish her for the joke; he had no right to!  
  
"Can't I, Miss Woodhouse?" Snape asked maliciously. "The Headmaster might have mentioned point deductions and detentions, but I'm quite sure he said nothing about essays as a form of punishment for April Fool jokes. Now - if you would kindly let me get on with the lesson..."  
  
Elizabeth felt as if somebody had stolen her new toy. She just couldn't believe it: there she was, only a few minutes ago, thinking how she had miraculously managed to pull off the perfect prank, but now ... now it suddenly looked as though it would be Snape who'd come out as the winner once again ... with nothing she could do against it. He even went as far as pointedly ignoring her for the rest of the lesson, as if to show her just how little her idiotic joke had affected him.  
  
When the class finally reached its end, however, Elizabeth was surprised to suddenly hear him call her name, causing the whole room to immediately fall silent as everybody breathlessly awaited what was to come. She slowly glanced up, and saw Snape regarding her in a very unnerving fashion, his all too familiar twisted smile firmly in place.  
  
And then he spoke, although his words were so unexpected that Elizabeth wasn't sure if she'd heard them at all.  
  
"April Fool, Miss Woodhouse."  
  
Elizabeth slowly let the sentence sink in. April Fool? But he hadn't done anything ... or had he?  
  
She quickly checked all the parts of her body which she could possibly afford to have a look at in an attempt to spot anything out of the ordinary, but everything seemed perfectly normal. And since even the other students were looking absolutely puzzled by Snape's strange statement, she decided that the answer to the problem had to most likely lie elsewhere. But where?  
  
Well, Snape was the only one who could possibly give her the answer to that.  
  
"Um, sir?" she asked in a tiny voice. "Wh ... what is an April Fool?"  
  
It seemed as if Snape had been waiting for this question all along, for his twisted smile immediately widened and his eyes lit up with triumph.  
  
"Your essay, Miss Woodhouse," he said smugly.  
  
"My essay?" repeated Elizabeth, completely dumbfounded. "Does ... does that mean I don't have to write it?"  
  
'Does that mean Snape has *a sense of humour*?'  
  
"Oh no, Miss Woodhouse, you do have to write it," said Snape slowly, as if relishing every word. "Only not five rolls of parchment ... but ten."  
  
'All right, scratch that. A *twisted* sense of humour might be a slightly better description.'  
  
A/N: *sob* Where has one of my favourite reviewers disappeared to? *sob* Whatever I did, I'm sorry! Please come back, I miss you!  
  
Um ... anyway, a big hug to all those who have remained with me despite the fact that I can't update as often as I would like to any more. Thank you, guys!  
  
The Evil Cup of Tea: Hehe, I did thank you first before and I will do it again this time. You are always the first to review, so it's only fair. You really think that the story gets better and better? I actually wasn't too satisfied with the Valentine chapter, but if you like it, that's great. Good for my really low self-confidence to hear that, that is, so thank you! I'm looking forward to hearing from you again!  
  
AddisonRae: *Shudders* Yeah, it creeps me out too. Hmm ... maybe it's good that he's blind, because if he knew what Elizabeth feels for him, he'd probably never speak to her again. Or, even more likely, begin to treat her like a piece of dirt ... wait, he already does that, doesn't he? Anyway, thank you very much for reviewing; I'm soo glad you liked it!  
  
LadyJavert: I'm so glad you liked the Valentine, because I admit it went straight from my heart :-). And yeah, I've been thinking about the scene where he finds out how Elizabeth feels for him A LOT lately, and I simply can't wait to get there. I woke up at 2:30 a.m. a couple of nights ago and I could just see it all before me; it was actually so realistic that I couldn't get back to sleep afterwards, and was very sleepy the next day as a result. Well, thank you for your review, and I'm looking forward to the next one! P.S. What happened? You actually didn't use the word installment for once! :-)  
  
A.J.D'Angelo: That first review of yours has to be the shortest one I've received so far, but thank you none the less. At least I know that you're reading and enjoying the story. As for your questions - well, I can't really give away what's going to happen next, because then you wouldn't have any fun reading, but I can promise you that Snape definitely is going to get more nice. Perhaps even in the next chapter, but I'm not really sure yet. Anyway, thank you once more for reviewing and I hope you keep reading!  
  
Kurtfan5678: That's great you think the characters are IC; Snape takes a lot of thinking to be made that way, but the others are easy. I'm also really glad you like Elizabeth, and although it might seem like I've planned her character out beforehand or something, I haven't, she reacts absolutely spontaneously according to how I'd feel were I in her situation. It's like writing myself, really. Hmm ... that sounded almost like a threat about the plot holes; I will definitely do my best to keep writing without them :-). Anyway, it's wonderful that you like the story and thank you very much for finding the time to send me another encouraging review. Here's the new update!  
  
Yami no Sutekh: Oh, I'm so very glad you liked the last chapter, because I didn't. For some reason, I just wasn't satisfied with it, but since nobody has said anything negative about it yet, it might be just me. Hehe, yeah, I liked putting Dobby in; he was fun to write, and quite easy, too. As for the scene in the library - well, I got my inspiration from the fourth book, where Snape read the article about Harry for the whole class to hear. Anyway, it's absolutely wonderful that you reviewed again; such a confidence-booster is always a pleasure to read. Thank you, and here's the new chapter!  
  
Kylla Ellayan: Oh, thank you, thank you, I really don't think I deserve such praise. Well, actually, I don't intend to make Snape find out who wrote the Valentine, because I think Elizabeth would never get out of it if he did. No, I've got other plans in mind... Oh, and like I've said in my e- mail to you (did you get it, by the way?), I really don't intend to abandon this fic; I just love Snape (and Elizabeth) too much to do that. It will take quite a long time, but I really do want to finish it. Anyway, thank you very much for reviewing again and here's the new chapter: hope you enjoy it. P.S. If you've got any questions or anything you'd like to discuss, please don't hesitate to e-mail me again; I'd be more than happy to talk to you. 


	21. Detention

Chapter 21  
  
Detention  
  
Elizabeth's sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was rapidly coming to an end. The Quidditch season was long since over (with Ravenclaw, despite the best efforts of their slightly fanatical captain, ending up in third place of the highly prestigious and constantly talked about Quidditch Cup), the end-of-year exams were only a few days away ... and Elizabeth had suddenly nothing to look forward to in the course of the upcoming two months but another never-ending holiday spent miles away from her beloved school ... as well as a certain greasy-haired Professor whom she had grown so used to seeing every day for the past year that it had become almost like an addiction to her, with not even the way he had been treating her lately being able to change that fact.  
  
Why in the world did she have to fall in love with the one man who could simply never return her feelings, not even if his life depended on it? Why couldn't it have been pretty much anybody else? Hermione was going to spend her holiday with Neville (well, part of it, anyway, since Neville was to spend the rest at Hogwarts being tutored by Snape, making Elizabeth, even though she knew she was evidently being stupid, since she would never even dream of trading places with the boy and having to go through all that he had, feel somewhat jealous), Jane was planning to stay with Justin ... while, not counting her parents and her half-deaf grandmother, she would only have a lousy photo of Snape to keep her company. Come to think of it, she might just as well try and take a slightly better one while she still had the chance, just to make her holiday a little more bearable.  
  
Try as she might, however, the perfect opportunity always seemed to slip right through her fingers, causing Elizabeth to soon come to the conlusion that taking a good picture of somebody without them noticing was definitely not as easy a task as she had thought it to be. Especially not when that somebody was Snape, who often seemed to have eyes even at the back of his head. But as the amount of opportunities in any case is by no means endless, Elizabeth soon discovered that even she was slowly running out of time, and therefore needed to act before it was too late.  
  
In the end it was the very last Potions class of the year where she chose to finally try her luck, because even though she was fully aware of the incredible risk she'd be taking, she also knew that it would probably be the last chance she'd ever get.  
  
"Elizabeth, have you gone mad?" Hermione whispered incredulously when the Ravenclaw had acquainted her with what she was about to do just before they entered the Potions classroom. "What if he sees you?"  
  
"Well, I'll just have to hope that he doesn't," replied Elizabeth, mentally forcing herself to sound calm. There was really no need to let her friend see just how nervous she was feeling, after all. "I promise to be extra careful."  
  
"That's no excuse," retorted Hermione as she reached her seat and sank down into it. "You know what he's like. He can spot anything that's even the slightest bit out of the ordinary; almost as if he had some sort of sixth sense! And to think what he'd do if he saw you... Why can't you simply be happy with the picture you already have?"  
  
"Because it's just not good enough," muttered Elizabeth under her breath, throwing a quick glance in Snape's direction to make sure he wasn't watching before fishing her camera out of her bag and placing it in one of the many pockets of her robes.  
  
Snape, meanwhile, had shut the door with a loud 'bang' and gracefully swept over to his desk, where he now waited for the class to settle down, looking surprisingly pleased with something.  
  
"As this is the last time we shall see each other this year," he said finally, the tone of his voice leaving Elizabeth in no doubt as to the reason of his sudden good mood, "I think a little revision test would be the perfect way to find out exactly how much you have - or *haven't* - learnt in the course of the past ten months. So if you would all kindly find your quills and a piece of parchment..." He paused, amusedly watching as the students sulkily started searching their bags, muttering something not particularly polite as they did so. "The questions..." he pointed his wand towards the blackboard, which immediately became completely covered with a mixture of words and diagrams "...are on the board. Start - now."  
  
Elizabeth took a quick glance at what Snape had thought up for them. Having studied Potions like a person possessed all throughout the year, she naturally knew most of the answers straight off; what bothered her more was whether there was still any chance of her taking the desired picture now that Snape was sure to keep his eyes on them at all times in an attempt to prevent any potential cheating. She watched him silently sit down and give Draco, who was trying to whisper something in Pansy's ear, a warning look, causing the blond Slytherin to guiltily return back to his own paper. Elizabeth eventually did the same, but continued glancing up every now and then to see whether she could make use of the given moment or not. It seemed like Snape had noticed her sudden interest in what he was doing, however, for she soon felt his penetrating gaze land exclusively on her person ... and, to her extreme disappointment, stay there.  
  
Now she'd done it! How in the world was she supposed to take his picture with him staring at her all the time? Maybe if she pretended to *really* concentrate on her test, he would eventually leave her alone...  
  
'And maybe not,' she thought miserably about twenty minutes later, during which the situation hadn't changed one bit. Snape's attention was still mostly on her, her test wasn't going as well as she would've liked it to (mainly due to the fact that her mind was on other things half of the time), the lesson was slowly coming to an end... Plainly speaking - everything was going wrong.  
  
But since nothing lasts forever, even Elizabeth was eventually given her chance: a couple of minutes before the end of class Snape was forced to tear his eyes away from her in order to give Draco and Pansy another warning, leaving the Ravenclaw to readily pull the camera out of her pocket, get Snape into view, and then press the little red button ... just as the Potions master turned back to look at her.  
  
For a short while, he looked as though he didn't quite believe what he was seeing, but all too soon his expression turned as dark as a cloud before a storm, causing Elizabeth, who would've given anything for the ground to swallow her right there and then, to expect the worst.  
  
"And what exactly do you think you're doing, Miss Woodhouse?" he said slowly, his voice not too far from a whisper and his eyes flashing with fury.  
  
For once, Elizabeth was completely lost for words. What could she possibly say? That she would miss him so much over the holidays that she needed at least a photo of him to get her through the summer? Definitely *not* ... although it could be interesting to see how he'd react to that one. That...  
  
Fortunately, though, it seemed like Snape didn't actually expect her to say anything this time, for he glided over to her table and continued speaking without waiting for even the slightest attempt at a reply.  
  
"The camera," he ordered curtly and, after Elizabeth had reluctantly placed it in his outstretched hand, added: "And detention, Miss Woodhouse. Maybe you'll finally realize what is acceptable and what is most certainly not."  
  
And with that, he swept back to his desk, calling: "Two minutes until the end!" as he did so.  
  
But Elizabeth didn't really care about her test any more; she was too distracted by what Snape had said to her. Two detentions in one semester, and both because of him! And both completely undeserved, too. But that was actually the last thing that bothered her; her main worry was that he now had her camera ... as well as the picture in it. There was absolutely no way she would let him keep it; she simply *had* to get it back before the end of the school year, even if she had to beg him on bended knees to return it!  
  
With all these unpleasant thoughts occupying her mind, she didn't even notice Snape 'Accio' her test over to his desk, and only reacted (with a considerable start, too) when she heard him call her name.  
  
"Stay behind, Miss Woodhouse," he ordered, his eyes glinting with malice. "We need to arrange your detention."  
  
Elizabeth obediently crossed over to his desk, not even bothering to pack up first in her anxiety to find out what he'd make her do this time. If she ended up with Filch again, she'd probably...  
  
"You will serve your detention with Mr. Filch," Snape announced smugly, thus unconsciously (or maybe not quite, judging from the knowing look he gave her as he said it) confirming Elizabeth's worst fears. "I believe he needs someone to help him scrub the floor in the Defence Against the Dark Arts department tonight. You are to meet him there at seven." And since Elizabeth didn't react at first, being too upset to speak, he quickly added: "Well? Is that clear, or do I need to repeat it?"  
  
"Perfectly clear, sir," said Elizabeth quietly, hurriedly turning away and walking back to her table before she could say something she'd probably instantly regret.  
  
***  
  
The rest of Elizabeth's day was relatively uneventful compared to what had happened to her in Potions, and as such offered nothing to take her mind off the upcoming detention. She had thought of countless injuries that poor Mr. Filch could possibly become the victim of by the time she'd left her dormitory to go down to dinner that evening, one worse than the other, but apparently none of them had the decency to actually happen in real life.  
  
'If only he'd trip over Mrs. Norris and get a concussion,' she thought hopefully as she and Jane made their way to the Great Hall, glumly checking her watch to find that he didn't really have that much time left to do it ... a little over an hour and a half, in fact.  
  
Her mind infected with such thoughts, Elizabeth almost squealed with joy when she didn't spot Filch anywhere at the teachers' table, but her happiness quickly evaporated when she realized that he actually seldom came down to meals, and therefore, to her undying disappointment, was probably still alive and well, thinking up ways how to somehow make her detention even more unpleasant.  
  
Returning back to her gloomy state, Elizabeth slowly dug into her dinner, but she had barely taken three bites of her chicken when a huge dark owl with a note tied to its leg suddenly landed next to her plate, surprising her so much that she had almost spilled her pumpkin juice.  
  
"I wonder what this is all about?" she muttered as she untied the string, offering the owl a piece of her chicken which it contemptuously refused.  
  
A couple of seconds later, she finally held the unfolded letter in her hand, at first having quite a bit of trouble believing what it contained, simply because it was too good to be true.  
  
Miss Woodhouse, (it said)  
  
Owing to the fact that Mr. Filch has had an accident this afternoon, you will serve your detention with me. It will take place in the Potions classroom; the time remains the same.  
  
Severus Snape  
  
"Oh my god," Elizabeth whispered incredulously, laying the note on the table with a trembling hand. "I wished for it to happen ... and it did!"  
  
"What did?" asked Jane curiously, her mouth full of food.  
  
"Filch's had an accident, so I'll serve my detention with Snape instead," Elizabeth replied shakily.  
  
"Oh, yeah!" exclaimed Jane. "Now that you mention it, Justin told me that Filch's had some sort of encounter with Peeves, but I didn't know it was *that* bad! Sorry, I forgot to tell you!"  
  
"It's O.K.," said Elizabeth vaguely, already losing herself in thought. It happened! What she'd been praying for all afternoon has actually happened! Wasn't Peeves simply the most wonderful creature in the world? She'd definitely have to thank him the next time she saw him, but for now ... for now there was still a detention she had to complete, although no longer with Filch, who was currently probably up in the hospital wing, but with Snape ... which, in her opinion, was by all means a huge improvement. Sure, the work he'd make her do would probably be just as bad (if not worse) as the stuff she'd have to do with the caretaker, but at least she'd be in his company, which was always a welcome circumstance, even if he treated her like he usually did. If nothing, she could at least use the opportunity to ask him to give her camera back.  
  
***  
  
"Um ... didn't you say you had detention tonight?" Jane asked uncertainly, eyeing Elizabeth with a look of puzzlement. It was ten to seven, and the blond Ravenclaw was just about to leave the dormitory for her appointment with Snape.  
  
"Yes, why?"  
  
"It's just that it looks more like you were going on a date," observed Jane.  
  
Elizabeth froze. True, she had put on some make-up and played around with her hair for a while (goodness knows what had made her do it, anyway), but she didn't think...  
  
"Is it really so noticeable?" she asked pleadingly. "Please tell me it's not that bad! I-"  
  
"If you're asking me whether Snape'll notice," smiled Jane, "then I can assure you that he won't. He's a man, Elizabeth; the worst thing that can happen is that he'll realize you're somehow different, but there's absolutely no way for him to find out what had caused it."  
  
"Are you sure?" asked the blond witch doubtfully.  
  
"Positive. Now go, I'm sure you don't want to be late."  
  
Elizabeth glanced at her watch, and had to admit that she really didn't have too much time to spare. In fact, she'd probably have to run most of the way if she wanted to get to the dungeons in time. Which is exactly what she did, in the end arriving only about two seconds later than she was supposed to.  
  
Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the classroom door, and, after hearing Snape's impatient "Enter", pushed the door open and stepped inside.  
  
The first thing she saw was none other than the Potions master himself, who was just rising from his desk, where he'd obviously been marking tests, to greet her with a reproachful look.  
  
"You're late," he informed her before she'd even had the chance to say 'good evening'. "Five points from Ravenclaw."  
  
Elizabeth sighed. She couldn't have wished for a better beginning.  
  
"As for your detention," Snape continued, "I want you to get rid of that abominable mess over there," he waved his hand in the direction of one of the tables, where a spilt potion was steadily dripping to the floor, creating an increasingly larger puddle of green goo, "conveniently left behind by the last class especially for you to clean, and while you're at it, you can give the whole floor a thorough scrub as well. When you're finished with that, you will move over to the store cupboard, take all its contents out, wipe them, as well as the cupboard itself, clean, and then put everything back again exactly the way it was before. And lastly, I want you to deprive the classroom of all cobwebs. Needless to say, you are to do everything without magic. Understood?"  
  
"Yes, sir," said Elizabeth glumly. This was going to be a looong evening.  
  
Not to mention rather dull, too, since neither Snape, nor she looked as though they would attempt to break the silence any time soon. But while with Snape it was quite understandable, since it would have been extremely uncharacteristic of him to suddenly start a conversation, with Elizabeth it was a different story. Her mind was infested with at least a million questions that were simply begging to be asked, but somehow she just couldn't find the courage to open her mouth and let them out.  
  
'What is it with you today, girl?' she asked herself irritably, slowly transferring herself from the floor to the store cupboard and beginning to empty it out. 'Why don't you just ask something? He won't bite your head off, you know. So how about starting with that nagging little question about your camera that you've been longing to ask all day? Come on, you can do it!'  
  
"Sir?" she peeped diffidently. "About my camera-"  
  
"You'll get it back at the end of the year," said Snape brusquely, not even glancing up from his marking.  
  
'Cool. At least something.'  
  
Momentarily satisfied, Elizabeth continued working in silence, but not without almost blowing up her little grey cells in a desperate attempt to figure out what she could possibly ask next. After about ten minutes of feverish thinking, she finally gathered her courage, put down the vial she had just finished cleaning, and asked the one question that had been poisoning her mind for at least six months now: "Sir ... why do you hate me so much? What have I done to you?"  
  
This time, Snape did look up, obviously somewhat surprised by her nerve. "*That* is none of your business, Miss Woodhouse," he said icily. "Kindly get back to work."  
  
Elizabeth couldn't believe her ears. None of her business? She would probably have accepted any other answer, but this?  
  
"How can you say that, sir?" she asked incredulously. "The fact that it's me whom you dislike kind of does make it my business, you know."  
  
"I thought," said Snape in his most dangerous voice, "that I told you to get back to work."  
  
Elizabeth, however, didn't care one bit about what he'd said or hadn't said. Dangerous voice or not, she had let it get too far to back off now. So, in complete conflict with Snape's orders, she left her place by the store cupboard and crossed over to his desk, hoping to make her point clearer that way.  
  
"If it was the dance that had started it all," she said gravely, looking straight at Snape and for once, to her surprise, making him look rather uncomfortable, "then I apologize for it. Now I know it was wrong to ask you, and I promise to never ever do it again."  
  
All of a sudden, Snape stood up, looking like he was having quite a lot of trouble controlling himself.  
  
"Leave, Miss Woodhouse," he said in a strained voice, looking anywhere but at her when he said it.  
  
Elizabeth was confused. What was going on? Was it something she'd said?  
  
"But ... I haven't finished cleaning up yet," she reasoned. Surely he wouldn't let her off early, that would be...  
  
"Leave," he repeated, sounding almost desperate.  
  
Slowly, Elizabeth obeyed, but couldn't help turning around at least once just before she walked out the door. What she saw was definitely strange: Snape was looking straight at her with an expression she was quite sure she'd never seen on his face before - a mixture of sadness, pain ... and something else, which, at this moment, was downright impossible for Elizabeth to place.  
  
She was certain of one thing, though: it wasn't hate.  
  
A/N: Aaargh! I've seen the trailer for the third movie! Oh my god, it almost killed me. I can't wait until June! I've also seen three movies with Rickman during the past two weeks, seems like I can't get enough of him lately. Has anyone seen Mesmer? I don't think people can get any more handsome than that...  
  
Anyway, thank you for all the beautiful reviews, I've no idea what I'd do without you, my wonderful, wonderful readers. Thank you!  
  
One person has also offered to become my beta-reader, so cheers for PotionsProfessor!  
  
Kyla Ellayan: That's really cool you think my story's getting better and better; I'm doing my best. Hmm ... I think I might go and check out your fics sometime; you've really aroused my curiosity. :-) 'You defy me to find anyone who loves my fic more than you do...' All right, I'm hereby making you my no. 1 fan ... is that enough? Ooh, so you've noticed the romance suspense? That's excellent; I was really beginning to think that I'd have to make it more obvious, since only one other person has spotted it so far. Anyway, thank you very very much for reviewing again and I'm looking forward to your e-mail - whenever you find the time to send it.  
  
LadyJavert: You really liked the last chapter that much? I'm soo happy that I made you laugh! How could you have thought that he'd tell her that she didn't have to write it? That wouldn't be Snape! Anyway, he will get nicer to her, don't worry; I actually thought it'd be in this chapter already, but he just didn't let me. So you'll just have to wait a bit more, as will I (I'm also looking forward to that part, don't think that I'm not!). Well, thank you very much for the review, and here's the new installment! Enjoy!  
  
GoddessIsis: I'm glad for that, and I'm really doing what I can to get the chapters up as fast as possible. I just wish I had more time... Anyway, thanks for reviewing!  
  
A.J.D'Angelo: Aww, he wasn't really evil, he was just defending himself! He couldn't have let Elizabeth get the better of him in front of the whole class, after all, otherwise he would've lost his respect. And anyway, he's more mean to Elizabeth than to the rest of the students for a certain reason... I think you can easily guess what it is. Well ... thank you very much for your opinion and I really hope my explanation was sufficient.  
  
The Evil Cup of Tea: Oh well, maybe you'll be the first to review next time. You had 33 reviews to read? I wish I had that many ... can I have some? Yeah, I also love Snape's sense of humour, and since we didn't see much of it in the HP books, I just couldn't resist putting some in here. Hehe, I'm glad you see (and like) the tension, you'll get lots of it in this chapter, but it probably won't get better than that, I'm afraid. Yes, I know the feeling when you read the chapters too fast, I had it like that with all the HP books - I didn't even realize it and I had finished reading already! And now I'll have to wait for god knows how long for the sixth book. Damn! Oh yes, you're the nicest person on Earth for wating so patiently for me to get the new chapter out ... so ... here it is! Hope you like it and thank you so so much for reviewing again!  
  
Shadowink: I'm glad you like the story and yes, I know that Mrs. Figg is a Squibb, but as I've said in my author's note at the very beginning, I had most of the story planned out before I've read the fifth book, so I didn't really want to change it afterwards. Just try and ignore that you've read OotP and it should all make sense. Thank you for reviewing, though!  
  
AddisonRae: Yes, well, I felt that even poor Snape could have a sense of humour - to give you something to laugh about :-) I'm glad you liked it, and I hope you like this new chapter (did I get it out soon enough?) as well, even though it's not funny like the last one. Thank you very much for reviewing again!  
  
Padfoot's Girl: Oh no, don't apologize; just review whenever you can and I'll be happy. I did miss you, though :-) Oh yes, the Valentine - I think it's great that it affected you the way it did, because I wrote it with that intention ... to make it kind of sad. I also felt like crying when I wrote it; it went straight from my heart. Snape does tend to stick his nose where it doesn't belong quite often, doesn't he? But I just have to love him for that, at least it helps me create more and more interesting situations. Yeah, Dobby was fun to write. Such a cute little thing, isn't he? You really thought he was like J.K.'s? Wow, that's about the highest praise I can get -thank you! Heehee, I'm glad you liked my little 'Avada Kedavra' joke, I really hoped somebody would find it funny. As for Malfoy thinking that somebody really loved Snape - well, I just needed some student to ask Snape what Malfoy had asked in the end, and he was really the only one who could do that, because I'm sure Snape wouldn't talk to anybody else. And then I thought - why not? Because I believe that Malfoy is actually rather fond of Snape, and would like him to be happy, so I thought that could be a good enough reason to make him ask what he had. Hope that wasn't too confusing. Anyway, I'm very very glad that you liked the ending, because I actually got rather stuck there, and couldn't think of a good way to end the chapter for quite a while. In the end I got a friend to help me out, so it's not really entirely my own idea. Well, thank you very much for reviewing, here's the new chapter, and just let me know how you liked it (and the April one) whenever you find the time.  
  
FireValkyrie: It doesn't look like he will lighten up, does it? Oh but he will ... eventually. I'm so glad that you like the story and that you believe in me so much that you think it'll be good whatever I do with it ... you really can't imagine just how good words like that make an author feel. And when you add that you think Snape's in character, I'm in absolute heaven. I will try not to disappoint you. Thank you for the lovely review, and I would be delighted if you reviewed again sometime. 


	22. Hogwarts in danger

Chapter 22  
  
Hogwarts in danger  
  
Elizabeth walked back to Ravenclaw Tower with only one thing on her mind: she had to tell somebody about Snape's strange behaviour as soon as possible, or she'd definitely go mad. Try as she might, she couldn't think of any plausible reason that could've possibly made him act the way he had, the explanation that his dislike for her had reached such a level that he now couldn't even stand to be near her not really sounding all that probable. It wasn't hate that she saw in his eyes just before she left the classroom, after all; it was something else, and Elizabeth was certain that if she figured out exactly what, all her questions would suddenly no longer remain unanswered.  
  
"Password?" asked Violet as Elizabeth reached the familiar portrait that hid the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room.  
  
"Purple," the blond witch muttered and, not even waiting for Violet and her portrait to fully uncover the hole underneath, climbed into the common room.  
  
"What? Back already?" Jane, who was reading a book (yet another Agatha Christie, to Elizabeth's huge 'surprise') in one of the armchairs by the fire, but looked up as her friend dropped down onto the couch on her right, asked disbelievingly. "Don't tell me Snape let you off early!"  
  
"Believe it or not, he did," stated Elizabeth, and proceeded to give Jane a detailed account of her detention, including its strange end.  
  
"I always knew he was weird," Jane declared when her friend had finished. "But to kick you out like that, when you were still a long way from finishing all the tasks he'd set you ... that's totally beyond my reach."  
  
Elizabeth sighed: Jane probably wasn't the right person to ask for an explanation. Had she given it some thought, she could've guessed what her friend's reaction would be even before it left her mouth, actually. Well, she still had Hermione.  
  
The Gryffindor, however, didn't prove to be as much help as Elizabeth had originally hoped, because although she had come up with at least three theories explaining why Snape had decided to end Elizabeth's detention early, each sounded even more improbable than the next. Surely it was crazy to think that she had finally managed to talk some sense into the Potions master, and that the only reason why he threw her out was because he wanted to be alone so he could think her words over. Little did she know that in reality, the truth was even crazier.  
  
***  
  
The couple of days left until the beginning of the summer holidays were over before Elizabeth knew it, and still she wasn't any closer to solving 'The Case of Snape's Mysterious Behaviour', as she had come to call it. The Potions master didn't even look at her as she quietly brewed her Invisibility Potion as part of the NEWT class' end-of-year exam, nor did he say a word when she came up to his desk to hand in the finished version of her work (in the end he still gave her 'Outstanding', though, causing Elizabeth to become even more confused about the state of his mind than she already was). Her last hope of finding something out was now compressed into the fact that Snape still had to return her camera, but eventually even that possibility became nothing more than a fantasy when the Professor, instead of giving it to her personally, sent her the camera via his unfriendly black owl. And so, just like last summer, Elizabeth was once more forced to go home in a state of unsufferable uncertainty, because only after returning to school after the holidays would she finally get to find out what was the matter with Snape this time ... or so she hoped.  
  
Upon her arrival at her family's villa, Elizabeth was greeted not only by her grandmother, who had dropped in for an unexpected visit, but also by the sight of a small pile of presents lying on the living room table, waiting for none other than her to open them. With her mind constantly on Snape, she had completely forgotten about her somewhat delayed Christmas, but now that she realized just what was in store for her, she simply couldn't help but temporarily put her troubles aside, and dig into the packages with unfeigned enthusiasm. She had never been one to take her time with the process of unwrapping, and since this time she didn't even have to wait for the other members of the family to pass their presents around, she was finished in record time.  
  
"Thank you, Santa!" she called as soon as she threw the last bit of wrapping aside, not really daring to break the family tradition despite the rather unusual time of the year. "Especially for the MP3 player!" she added, looking fondly at one of the exposed gifts lying on the floor in front of her.  
  
Dinner followed, but although it was undoubtedly excellent, Elizabeth wasn't really paying her plate much attention, as she was impatiently waiting for an opportunity to lead her grandmother away from the table so that she could talk to her in private. To her immense delight, she got her chance right after dinner, and so while her mother disappeared into the kitchen to wash the dishes and her father retired into the living room to watch TV, Elizabeth wasted no time and virtually dragged her grandmother up to her room. Once there, she quietly shut the door, motioned for the old lady to seat herself on the bed, and, dropping down on her knees, started rummaging through her Hogwarts trunk.  
  
Her grandmother, however, soon lost her patience. "All right, so what is all this secrecy about?" she asked, craning her neck so as to see what Elizabeth was doing.  
  
Luckily, the girl had just found what she was looking for - a large stack of photographs taken by her new camera, as well as the camera itself. "I just wanted to thank you once more for your early Christmas present," she said, climbing onto her bed while holding the camera up for her grandmother to see.  
  
"Ah, the camera, yes. I trust you put it to good use?"  
  
"Sure," beamed Elizabeth. "Want to take a look?" And settling herself comfortably next to the old lady, she began to work her way through the stack of photos, commenting each one as she handed it over. "This is my friend Jane sleeping ... hmm, this is quite obvious - the Hogwarts castle ... hehe, there's Dumbledore on St. Valentine's Day ... Professor Flitwick ... oh, that's my friend Hermione and her boyfriend ... and here's..."  
  
"Severus, isn't it?" smiled her grandmother, examining the moving photo in which Snape suddenly turned around to stare straight into the camera with a look of disbelief. "He still looks the same. But how on earth did you manage to take his picture? Knowing him, he probably wasn't too happy about it, was he?"  
  
Elizabeth sighed. "No, he gave me detention."  
  
"I thought as much," chuckled the old lady. "What did he have you do? His all time favourite - scrubbing out the bedpans in the hospital wing?"  
  
"Actually, no. I was supposed to serve my detention with Filch, but then..." Elizabeth trailed off, struck by a sudden idea. Maybe her grandmother would know why Snape had virtually begged her to leave him alone that day! She knew him quite well, after all, so it was definitely worth a try. And so, without further ado, she once more began to recount the events of her latest detention (and not only that, she also gave her grandmother a quick description of everything else concerning Snape that had happened in the course of the past year at Hogwarts), hoping against hope that she'd finally get a reasonable explanation of what had happened.  
  
When she had finished her narrative, however, and asked her grandmother for an opinion, the woman remained suspiciously silent, causing Elizabeth to strongly suspect her of either not hearing a large part of what she had said (the infamous deafness simply had to come in sooner or later, after all; the fact that it hadn't so far probably being just a coincidence), or, even worse, of actually falling asleep.  
  
"Grandma?" she tried quietly. "Are you awake?"  
  
"Of course I am, why wouldn't I be?" snapped the old lady, turning to face her and pretending to look hurt. Elizabeth, however, wasn't fooled; her Grandma was always looking hurt when she accused her of falling asleep, even if her accusation turned out to be correct.  
  
"It's just that you didn't answer me," she pointed out, mentally already preparing herself to repeat her question, possibly even the whole story.  
  
"I was thinking," her grandmother stated. "You said you came up to his desk just before he asked you to leave?"  
  
"Yes," confirmed Elizabeth, absolutely unsure of where this was going. At least she didn't have to repeat anything, though.  
  
"Hmm ... you know what, Elizabeth? I think our dear Severus might have finally fallen in love with you."  
  
Elizabeth stared at her grandmother in complete shock. What did she just say? Snape ... in love with her? No, surely she had heard wrong; Snape would never...  
  
"B ... but that's impossible," she whispered finally. "He hates me! What other reason could he possibly have for treating me so badly?"  
  
"That's just it," her grandmother declared triumphantly. "What's the simplest way to disguise love?"  
  
"Pretend ... he was only pretending to hate me?" breathed Elizabeth.  
  
"Exactly. Or maybe not... I have a feeling that he wasn't only pretending to dislike you, most likely he was trying to convince himself of it, too. Probably thought that if he treated you in the worst way possible, his feelings for you would eventually disappear. It's all so simple; I can easily imagine what was going through his mind when he first discovered that he was beginning to like you a little more than he should: that you're his student, that he's so much older than you are, that you would never return his feelings anyway ... do I need to continue?"  
  
Elizabeth, however, still didn't want to believe what her Grandma was telling her. It all made sense, yes, but then again... "What about the detention, then?" she asked doubtfully. "Why did he throw me out so suddenly? If he were to successfully pretend that he hates me, wouldn't his keeping me there right until the end come out much more convincing?"  
  
"Definitely," the old lady agreed, "only I suspect that he couldn't. When you came up to him the way you did, I believe it was simply too much for him to bear, since he knew that unless he sent you away as quickly as possible, his self-control would most likely give way." She shook her head and smiled. "Ah, who would've thought? The ever-so-composed Severus Snape, disconcerted by the mere presence of one of his students. What is this world coming to?"  
  
Elizabeth, however, was no longer paying her any attention. Her heart was beating like mad, her hands were shaking ... while her brain was feverishly trying to analyze what she'd just heard. If she hadn't left like Snape had asked her to, would he have... No, that was completely ridiculous. Her grandmother had to be wrong; there was simply no other explanation.  
  
"Grandma, I think what you're saying is totally crazy," she declared. "It would, of course, be unbelievably wonderful if it were all true, but you haven't seen the way Snape looks at me most of the time ... nobody could ever fake hate like that."  
  
Sighing, her grandmother rose from the bed. "Whatever you say, Elizabeth. I'll just leave you to your thoughts, then. Good night!"  
  
"Night, Grandma," the girl replied absently, her mind already on other things.  
  
And not even waiting for the old lady to make her way out of the room, she fell back on her pillows, shakily running her fingers through her short hair.  
  
Great. Just what she needed - another factor to add to her already huge confusion and uncertainty. Snape finally falling in love with her ... how wonderful that sounded! But also how improbable... Aargh, why didn't she just keep quiet instead of asking her Grandma for an opinion? She was an old lady, after all, and therefore her judgment might already be a little foggy, to say the least. And as such not completely reliable. What supported her theory, anyway? Nothing but assumptions. On the other hand, the fact that Snape hated her was being proven to her time and again all throughout the last semester ... ever since that fateful dance. Well, not that he had been too fond of her even before that (there was the matter with the Bludger, and also her suspicious politeness towards him, after all), but after the dance his dislike for her had undeniably reached new levels. What if Grandma was right, though? Would that mean that Snape's supposed ... feelings for her had started blossoming at that time as well? That Hermione had a point about the dance causing Snape to eventually start thinking about how strangely good it had felt to have her so close to him? That the look in his eyes just before she left the classroom on the day of her detention, the one she couldn't place, was ... was one of love? If only...  
  
Her thoughts getting more and more confusing by the minute, Elizabeth eventually fell into a restless sleep; the fact that she hadn't even changed into her pyjamas being probably the last thing in the world to bother her.  
  
***  
  
If the time Elizabeth had to spend at home last summer had seemed endless, it was still nothing compared to the madness she was undergoing now. She had told herself countless times not to keep dissecting what Snape might (or might not) be feeling towards her, since she knew only too well that there was absolutely no chance of her coming to a decent conclusion while still at home (and not at Hogwarts, where she'd make sure to watch Snape's every move in order to decide whether her grandmother had been right about him or not), where her continuous presumptions and suppositions meant only putting more salt into the wound. Needless to say, all her attempts to transfer her mind to other things had subsequently ended up with quite the opposite result, eventually leaving Elizabeth with only one option: to stick to her Animagus form as much as possible, for only in her furry body did she finally feel truly relieved of all her worries.  
  
That solution, however, had turned out to be a bit of a problem, since her mother soon made it quite clear that "as far as she knew, she had given birth to a daughter, and not a cat, so unless Elizabeth wanted to switch to cat food and milk, she should quickly resume her human form and start behaving like the seventeen-year-old girl that she was ... or, apart from eating tuna, she'd be forced to use the cat tray as well". At first, Elizabeth was actually rather tempted to accept the cat food (and even the cat tray, come to think of it) than be stripped of her only chance to escape her gloomy thoughts, but then she decided that maybe a little agreement with her mother would turn out to be a slightly better idea. If she offered to help her in the kitchen all morning, perhaps she'd let her get away with being a cat in the afternoon in return. Which is exactly how it had worked out in the end, even though it took almost one whole morning of continuous puppy-eyed begging and endless arguing to achieve. What Elizabeth had failed to mention, however, was that her help in the kitchen would naturally involve magic (she wasn't underage any more, after all), causing her mother to experience quite a nasty shock when the potatoes in the sink had suddenly started peeling themselves without Elizabeth even coming near them. But after a long tirade about how she could've easily ended up with a heart attack, the lady in question eventually calmed down, and, muttering something about "probably never getting used to having a witch for a daughter", simply let Elizabeth continue with her "sometimes quite useful" wand-waving without further fuss.  
  
But despite her afternoonly escapes from the cruel world of reality, and even despite her hard-earned photo of Snape currently taking up a privileged position on her bedside table, time still went by agonizingly slowly for Elizabeth, making her wish she could at least go to visit Hermione or Jane like she did last year, just to give her a break from the horribly uneventful daily routine she had at home (all right, and also to discuss with them her Grandma's suggestion about Snape - something she didn't really feel like doing via letters). But since both girls now had their boyfriends to attend to, Elizabeth knew only too well that her wish would most likely remain nothing but a wish, and she suddenly felt unusually alone, almost as if she now had no friends at all. She knew she was being stupid, of course, because even though Hermione and Jane had found themselves boyfriends, they were still her friends (and hopefully would remain just that forever), even if they didn't spend all their free time with her any more, but she simply couldn't help herself. Hermione hadn't written to her for almost five days now, after all...  
  
Speaking of the devil, a tawny owl suddenly flew in through the open window of her room, landing on her shoulder and extending its leg so that Elizabeth could remove the letter that was tied to it. Which she promptly did, momentarily even forgetting to give Hermione's owl some kind of treat in her eagerness to read what the girl had written her, but quickly rectifying her mistake when the said owl gave her a reproachful look, followed by a rather painful peck. Two chocolate biscuits later, the bird was finally satisfied, happily taking off again and leaving Elizabeth to read the letter in peace. Its contents, she soon discovered, were frightfully similar to what Hermione had been writing her all summer (not that Elizabeth minded, of course; in her state she was easily pleased by practically any letter): that Neville had taught her a really great new spell, that she and Neville had had another wonderful, long-lasting wizards' duel, that Neville was soon leaving for Hogwarts to do some more training with Snape, which meant Elizabeth could come over...  
  
Hang on! Now this was definitely *not* something Hermione wrote every time; this was excellent! And whoever said that wishes don't come true was, most fortunately, wrong. Deciding to compose a quick reply straight away, Elizabeth found herself a quill, some ink, and a piece of parchment, sat down at her desk, and swiftly started writing:  
  
Dear Hermione,  
  
Thank you very much for your letter; I'm glad you and Neville (say hi to him for me, will you?) are both alive and well. As for your invitation - I'd love to come, but I believe it's your turn to visit me this year, so if it's all right with you, please let me know when I should come to wait for you at the railway station as soon as possible.  
  
Love,  
  
Elizabeth  
  
A couple of minutes later, Wilma was already on her way, while Elizabeth could do nothing more but impatiently await her friend's reply. Which, fortunately, didn't take nearly as long to arrive as she had expected it to, and since Hermione had readily agreed with her suggestion (and, to the Ravenclaw's undefinable delight, even offered to stay with her right until the end of the holidays), Elizabeth could happily rush off to the railway station to meet her only three dreary days later.  
  
"Hermione!" she yelled as soon as she saw the bushy-haired witch getting off the train not far away from her, frantically searching the platform but obviously not seeing her. "Over here!"  
  
"Oh, there you are!" exclaimed Hermione, immediately beginning to make her way in Elizabeth's direction. "Hello!"  
  
"Hi, Hermione," beamed Elizabeth. "Great to see you again! But ... don't you have any luggage?"  
  
The Gryffindor looked at her empty hands and laughed. "Of course I do; it's just that I shrank my trunk to fit into my pocket. We are seventeen now, remember? Don't tell me you didn't try any magic at home yet, because I simply wouldn't believe you!"  
  
"Oh, I wouldn't dream of missing the opportunity to do that! I was just so taken by surprise when I saw you without your usual enormous trunk filled with books that for a short moment I forgot all about it. Anyway, how are you? And how come you can stay with me right until the beginning of September? Is Neville spending the rest of the holidays at Hogwarts?"  
  
Hermione sadly nodded. "Yes. I think there's something's going on, even though Neville refused to tell me anything when I asked him about it. Said he didn't want to scare me while he's still not sure whether his predictions are correct or not. But enough about that; how have *you* been? Terribly lonely, I'd say ... if one's to go by your letters."  
  
"Sorry, I didn't mean for the letters to sound that way," sighed Elizabeth, "but you're right. I'll tell you all about it when we get to my house, O.K.? Hope you don't mind a short walk; I would've got my Dad to pick us up, but since he's at work, I decided we'd just have to manage without him ... even if you turned out to bring your full-sized trunk with you, and not just a pocket version of it."  
  
And since Hermione immediately stated that a walk would be just fine, the two girls eventually left the by-now-empty railway station, and slowly set off towards the Woodhouse villa, with Elizabeth giving her friend a guided tour of the small village - her home - as they went.  
  
"It's so quiet here," commented Hermione, looking at the neat gardens of the houses they passed in amazement. "Can't help but love the place straight away."  
  
"I'm glad you like it," smiled Elizabeth, "but I'd be thankful for your flat in London if I were you. It gets rather boring here after a while, you know. No theatres, no cinemas ... nothing. Can't wait to learn how to apparate this year; then I'll be able to visit London practically anytime!"  
  
"Well, I'd gladly change with you. I've been dreaming of moving to the country for years, but I'm sure my parents would never agree to that. Who needs two dentists in some tiny little village, after all?"  
  
Elizabeth only shrugged, and the two girls continued walking in silence, except for Hermione's occasional comments concerning the beauties of the village. A few minutes later, they finally reached their destination, and after Hermione had brushed off the necessary greetings with Elizabeth's mother, both girls disappeared upstairs to give the Gryffindor time to unpack.  
  
"That's my room," Elizabeth pointed as they walked past a closed door, "but you'll be sleeping here - in the guest bedroom." And she pushed open another door, standing aside to let the bushy-haired witch in.  
  
"Wow, excellent!" exclaimed Hermione, taking a step inside and giving the room a quick survey. Then she turned towards her friend, who was still standing in the doorway, and, motioning for her to come in, said: "All right, but now you're going to tell me what's bothering you."  
  
Reluctantly, Elizabeth entered the room and seated herself on the bed. Maybe she shouldn't tell Hermione, after all. It was all so terribly silly, anyway; she'd probably just get laughed at. Snape in love - could anyone possibly think of anything even more absurd than that?  
  
"Don't you need to unpack first?" she asked hopefully.  
  
"I can easily listen to you even while unpacking," replied Hermione, fixing her with an expectant look. "Come on, you can tell me," she added when her friend remained silent. "It's about Snape, isn't it?"  
  
Nodding, Elizabeth finally launched into her narrative, including what her Grandma had told her, and even what she herself thought about it all ... which, unsurprisingly, came down to only three words: 'I don't know'.  
  
Several minutes later, Elizabeth had finished talking, and was now doing her best to determine what Hermione's reaction would most likely be. Curiously enough, the Gryffindor didn't look like she was about to laugh at all: her expression could only be described as thoughtful.  
  
"You know, Elizabeth," she said finally, her brows furrowed in concentration, "I think there's a chance that your grandmother might be right. It is definitely an option, and I must admit that it had crossed my mind as well when you asked me about the detention just before we left Hogwarts for the holidays, only I didn't want to give you any false hopes, so I decided that maybe it'd be better if I kept it to myself. Hope you're not angry at me for that."  
  
Elizabeth gave her a weak smile and gently shook her head. "No, of course not. Just look what finding that fact out had done to me - I can't stop thinking about it, it's poisoning my mind ... and what's the use of it all? I'm only coming up with more and more stupid assumptions each day, that's what. But seriously, Hermione - do you really believe he could love me?"  
  
The Gryffindor looked up from her unpacking and shrugged. "I don't think I know the answer to that, Elizabeth; I'm not a seer. All I can say is this: it's not impossible. But if I were you, I'd just try to forget about it for now, because until you get back to Hogwarts, there's simply no chance of you finding out for sure."  
  
"All right," said Elizabeth determinedly. "I'll do my best not to mention the subject for the rest of your time here, O.K.?"  
  
***  
  
Strange as it may seem, Elizabeth really did manage to keep her promise; the only time when Snape's name was brought up being when Hermione couldn't help but comment the photo on Elizabeth's bedside table. She still couldn't stop herself from turning the matter over in her mind whenever she had the chance, however, and so as the end of the holidays slowly drew nearer, Elizabeth, just like last year, grew more and more fidgety. Therefore it was really no wonder that by the time she and Hermione (who had, as expected, been made Head Girl this year) went to do their annual shopping at Diagon Alley, the all too familiar butterfly population in her stomach had returned with full force (and probably decided to bring all their relatives along as well), and as she eventually ended up walking through the double doors into the Great Hall, she was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Her first look was naturally directed at a certain seat at the High table, where Snape was currently immersed in a quiet conversation with both Dumbledore and Mrs. Figg, her heart almost stopping at the sight of the man who had unconsciously made her summer holiday turn into living hell. Fortunately, Jane (who had by then also found out about Elizabeth's little problem, predictably dismissing any speculations about Snape's supposed feelings towards her friend as complete nonsense) had enough sense for the both of them, as without her help Elizabeth would've probably never made it to her seat at the Ravenclaw table without attracting everyone's attention by her suspicious wobbliness.  
  
As soon as she was seated, however, her eyes immediately wandered back to the dark Potions master, and only left him when it was time to start taking care of the full plates which had meanwhile filled up the tables. But even then Elizabeth couldn't help looking up to the teachers' table every so often; Snape's expression, however, gave nothing away. Well, according to her timetable, Elizabeth was to have a double lesson of Potions the very next day, so maybe she'd have better luck with reading the Professor's mind then.  
  
Then again, maybe not: all throughout the lesson Snape had stuck to being his usual unpleasant self, giving Elizabeth absolutely nothing to go by in her attempt to either confirm or reject her grandmother's disturbing suggestion. Well, perhaps there actually *was* one little thing - maybe it was just her imagination, but it certainly seemed that the Potions master had finally decided to stop picking on her, and was now treating her the same as everybody else. But while it was undeniably a pleasant change, it still didn't prove anything.  
  
***  
  
Despite all hopes for a sudden twist, things remained exactly the same as the time went by, and Elizabeth was slowly beginning to believe that all the speculations about Snape in love were probably just a product of her grandmother's vivid imagination. Yes, there were times when she could've sworn that while she was evidently occupied with her potion, Snape's black eyes were slowly burning a hole into her head, but whenever she tried to catch him in the act and quickly glanced up, the Professor was already looking elsewhere, or at least giving off an impression of complete indifference. Elizabeth, however, still wasn't put off, and even went as far as asking Hermione to keep an eye on him for one lesson, but, to her endless disappointment, the result of her little experiment didn't come out nearly as promising as she had hoped it to, as the Gryffindor later announced that while Snape had indeed been watching Elizabeth a little more than was necessary, his expression could, at the very most, be described as thoughtful, but definitely not as one of love. Then again, it was kind of silly to expect him to show even a hint of his true feelings during class ... which, sadly enough, brought Elizabeth back to where she had been before - nowhere.  
  
'What now?' she thought to herself later that afternoon, angrily throwing herself onto one of the comfortable couches in the Ravenclaw common room. 'Should I just give up on all further attempts to determine whether Snape loves me or not, and simply pretend that Grandma's stupid theory never existed? Then again, what if he really *does* have some feelings for me? Would he just let me leave the school (as I'm sure he doesn't know that I'm hoping to stay on even after graduation) without telling me? Stupid question ... *of course* he would! Maybe *I* should go and tell him how I feel, then, and just see how he reacts. And maybe not ... knowing him, he'd probably just kick me out with detention. Oh god, these thoughts are killing me!'  
  
Frustrated, Elizabeth eventually decided to leave the common room in her Animagus form, hoping that a little stroll through the dark hallways of the castle would finally help her clear her somewhat confused mind. She didn't really care where her four feet would carry her, as long as she could relish the feeling of absolute freedom and unconcernedness that only her furry body could possibly give her, and therefore only discovered that she had somehow ended up down in the dungeons and in front of Snape's office when her sensitive ears caught the sound of footsteps somewhere in the distance, steadily heading her way. Curious as to who it might be (Snape?), Elizabeth swiftly squeezed herself behind the nearest suit of armour and waited, her emerald eyes shining with anticipation. It didn't take long for the person to come near enough for Elizabeth to recognize him, and her interest was quickly aroused when she saw that it was none other than Draco Malfoy. What could *he* possibly want here? Is Snape giving him extra Potions lessons? Has he come for Quidditch advice? Or perhaps just to lick Snape's shoes? Whatever it was, Elizabeth wanted to know (despite the annoying saying 'curiosity killed the cat' which had picked that very moment to invade her mind, and was evidently not prepared to leave it any time soon), and so as Draco knocked and entered the office, she quickly slipped in behind him just before he closed the door, immediately proceeding to retreat under Snape's desk and out of sight.  
  
"You wanted to see me, sir?" she heard him ask.  
  
"Yes, Draco," came Snape's silky voice. "Please sit down."  
  
Judging by the sound of a scraping chair, Draco obeyed, and for a while both males remained silent, with Snape seemingly deciding how to begin.  
  
"I believe your father has already acquainted you with my - shall we say - unloyalty to the Dark Lord, am I right?" he asked finally.  
  
"Yes, sir. Said he would've never thought it of you, sir."  
  
"I see. What else did he say?"  
  
"Oh, lots of things, sir. That he'd love to personally make sure that you are appropriately punished for your betrayal, that you - no offence, sir - are a disgrace to the House of Slytherin, that I didn't have to respect anything you said any more, as long as it didn't get me expelled ... something along those lines, sir."  
  
"I see," repeated Snape, letting several seconds pass before he spoke again. "But you don't agree with him." It was a statement, not a question.  
  
"No, sir, I don't," said Draco solemnly.  
  
"I thought so." More silence, and even Elizabeth under the desk could feel the tension in the room building. "Let me ask you a question, then: if the Dark Lord were to attack Hogwarts, would you choose to fight on Dumbledore's side, even if it meant standing up to your own father?"  
  
Draco seemed to consider the answer for a while, but eventually decided on a clear: "Yes, sir, I would."  
  
"I am glad to hear that, Draco," came Snape's response, and Elizabeth could've sworn that she'd caught a hint of relief in his voice. "How about your friends - Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle? Do you believe they'd do the same?"  
  
"I think they'd follow me anywhere, sir," said Draco confidently.  
  
Snape rose from his desk, obviously satisfied. "Thank you, Draco. You may go."  
  
The blond boy also stood up, but surprisingly made no attempt to leave. Instead he asked, his voice uncharacteristically small: "Sir? Is ... is the Dark Lord really planning to attack the school?"  
  
For a short while, Elizabeth thought that Snape wouldn't bother to answer, but she was soon proved wrong. "Yes," he said quietly, sounding even more serious than usual.  
  
"When?" breathed Draco.  
  
Snape sighed. "*That*, unfortunately, is something nobody knows,  
Draco."  
  
Even though Elizabeth couldn't see the boy's face, she could easily imagine his crestfallen expression as he muttered: "Oh ... well ... goodbye, sir," and slowly started making his way out of the office. At first making sure that Snape was looking elsewhere, Elizabeth quickly followed suit, managing to squeeze herself through the door only seconds before it snapped shut.  
  
As soon as she was safely out of the dungeons, the witch quickly changed back to her human form, and covered the rest of the way to Ravenclaw Tower on two feet only. The cat brain, unlike the human one, wasn't really tailored to complicated thinking, after all, which was exactly what she needed to do after what she'd just been enabled to hear.  
  
'Voldemort's going to attack Hogwarts!' her mind screamed. 'The school's in danger, the students are in danger, the teachers are in danger, especially Snape ... and Dumbledore doesn't even tell us? What sort of a Headmaster is he? The school should be making preparations, getting everybody ready for battle, sending the students home if necessary, and instead... The worst thing about it all is that I can't tell anyone, as I'm not really supposed to know. But - wait a minute! Why don't I talk to Neville? I bet *he's* the one who obtained this piece of information in the first place! Didn't Hermione tell me something was going on when she came to visit me in summer? Something scary? All right, that's it - I'm going to ask Neville tonight at dinner.'  
  
In the end, however, it wasn't really necessary, as Dumbledore had chosen that very evening to inform the school about the hell that was threatening to break loose anyway. All the students who weren't of age were to leave by the Hogwarts Express the following day, the rest were to decide whether they wanted to join them or stay and defend the school, in which case Dumbledore himself was willing to owl all of their parents a letter explaining the situation. Instead of regular lessons, special Defence Against the Dark Arts classes were to be held each day for those students who'd end up staying. Quidditch was, naturally, cancelled, as were any trips to Hogsmeade. Students were strictly forbidden to leave the school grounds. Everything that was going to happen at Hogwarts from that moment onwards was to remain secret, which meant that every letter (as well as the owl carrying it) would have to undergo a thorough inspection before being allowed to leave the school.  
  
'End of announcement, beginning of havoc,' thought Elizabeth dejectedly, the ferocious chatter which Dumbledore's speech had invoked slowly beginning to make her ears hurt. One thing she was sure of, though: even if she were to pay with her life for it, she was determined to stay at Hogwarts.  
  
***  
  
Elizabeth, however, wasn't by far the only one who had made that particular decision, judging by the amount of students who had turned up in the Great Hall (which had, just like in their second year when Lockhart had decided to start a Duelling Club, been turned into something closely resembling a battle field) for their first special Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson the following morning. Only a few of the seventh years were missing, and it seemed that even some of the sixth years had actually chosen to stay; Ron Weasley's sister, Ginny, being one of them. Their teacher (whoever that would turn out to be), however, was still absent, and Elizabeth decided to use the opportunity to quickly clear something up. Wasting no time, she swiftly made her way over to where Hermione and Neville were standing with a group of other Gryffindors, and, after briefly apologizing for disturbing their conversation, managed to drag the two aside.  
  
"What's the matter, Elizabeth?" asked Hermione as soon as they were out of earshot, giving her friend a curious look.  
  
The blond witch flashed her an apologetic smile. "Nothing, really. I was just wondering whether it was Neville who had brought in the news of Voldemort planning to invade the school, and if so, then how come he doesn't know the exact time of the attack as well?"  
  
"It *was* me," Neville confirmed solemnly, and Elizabeth suddenly realized just how much the boy had matured over the last couple of months. "But while the Dark Lord had revealed his plan to attack Hogwarts, he is keeping the time of the whole event to himself. I think he already suspects one of his Death Eaters of being a traitor, what with all those raids on both Muggles and wizards that have gone wrong, and I'm sure it's only a matter of time before he figures out who it is. And then-"  
  
"No, Neville, you mustn't talk that way," interrupted Hermione, gently taking her boyfriend's hand in hers. "You'll see that all will be well in the end: Hogwarts will be saved, Voldemort will be defeated, and you ... you will stay alive so that we can get married." And as if to seal her words, she grabbed the boy around the neck and proceeded to kiss him senseless.  
  
Elizabeth suppressed the urge to roll her eyes; this was even worse than some of the soap operas she'd been watching at home to pass the time, and that was definitely saying something. Luckily, at that moment the double doors of the Great Hall flew open, and in came, to everyone's surprise, not one teacher, but three: Dumbledore, Mrs. Figg and Snape. All of them looking unusually grave, they stopped in the very middle of the Hall, and after the somewhat confused students had finally managed to form a circle around them, Dumbledore waved an arm for silence and took the floor.  
  
"First of all," he began, his eyes exceptionally devoid of their ever- present twinkle, "I'd like to thank every one of you for choosing to stay at Hogwarts, despite the fate that this decision may bring you. Rest assured that all help is greatly appreciated at this difficult time, and that the more defenders Hogwarts will have, the better our chances of defeating Voldemort once and for all are. There's still a lot you have to learn, however, and therefore I think it would be best to begin straight away." Dumbledore paused, looking around at them all as if trying to determine whether they were up to what he was going to make them do or not. Finally seeming to come to some sort of conclusion, he continued: "Your first task during these lessons will be to continue practising what you have been doing with Mrs. Figg," he motioned towards the old lady on his left, "for the past two years, which means mainly working on your agility, improving the quickness of your reactions, learning in which cases it's more appropriate to use a defensive spell, and when, on the contrary, you should simply dodge the enemy curse, revising what you've learnt about fighting without a wand ... and so on, and so forth. Professor Snape," he jerked his head in the direction of his other colleague, who, for once, was missing his usual scowl, "on the other hand, is here to teach you a variety of new spells and incantations, both defensive and offensive, which might come in useful during battle, and also to revise with you the ones you already know." Dumbledore paused again, giving Elizabeth the feeling that the most important thing was presumably still to come. And she was right. "The principal aim of these classes," continued the Headmaster, "however, will be to teach you one final spell of vital importance - a spell that could very well determine the outcome of the whole battle. As I'm sure you're all well aware, Voldemort and his Death Eaters will refrain from nothing that could possibly help them take over the school, using the Unforgivable Curses, mainly the 'Avada Kedavra', included. Which, of course, gives them something of an advantage. But while we are most certainly *not* going to use the killing curse, there is one spell - a very old and complicated one, I might add - which, though not an Unforgivable, has basically the same effect as the 'Avada Kedavra'. It is the 'Fulgur Albus', or white lightning, which is very much the exact opposite of the 'Fulgur Ater' - dark lightning - sometimes used by the Death Eaters instead of the killing curse. Unlike its dark brother, however, which, unless well aimed, kills slowly and painfully, death caused by the 'Fulgur Albus' is instantaneous."  
  
Elizabeth slowly digested what the man had just said. Was he actually asking them to kill? She glanced around and noticed that most of her class mates were looking just as shocked as she was, whispering and throwing each other confused looks. Obviously Dumbledore had expected such a reaction, however, for he gave them all a knowing look and then said: "Yes, yes, I can see what you are thinking now. So, in answer to your silent question - yes, I am indeed going to teach you a spell which can bring death to your enemy. I was hoping it would never come to this, but, unfortunately, there is no other way. The Death Eaters will show no mercy, and won't hesitate to kill when given the opportunity, so unless we do the same, there is no chance of defeating them. I will do my best to help you overcome your hesitance to bring death to another human being, but if any of you feel that you're simply not up to the task, there's still time to let everything be and go home. I assure you that it is nothing to be ashamed of, not everybody has it in them to actually say the fatal words when it comes down to it, so please, think it over carefully, and if you have any doubts, any at all, go and pack your trunks before it's too late."  
  
Dumbledore fell silent and looked around. Most of the students had started talking in a quiet whisper, but nobody looked as though they were about to leave any time soon. Elizabeth was determinedly staring at the floor. If she had to kill, so be it, but nobody was making her go home and away from Snape.  
  
"Well, if you're all sure," said Dumbledore when the chatter had died down and still no one had decided to leave, "then I suggest we finally get down to business!"  
  
And without any further ado, the Headmaster divided the students into three groups, with each group having one teacher put in charge of it. To her great disappointment, Elizabeth ended up with Mrs. Figg, but her spirits slowly rose as the lesson went on, seeing she eventually discovered that all the groups would move on to another teacher after lunch, and yet another one halfway through the afternoon.  
  
"Hermione, don't you think Dumbledore forgot to tell us something?" she asked as she and the rest of her class mates made their way out of the Great Hall at the end of the day, feeling both exhausted and excited (she had spent the last part of the lesson with Snape, after all) at the same time.  
  
The Gryffindor gave her a questioning look. "What do you mean?"  
  
"Well, he mentioned defeating..." Elizabeth lowered her voice, "...Voldemort once and for all, but he didn't tell us how we could possibly go about killing him. I thought he was nearly immortal, or am I wrong?"  
  
Hermione sighed. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth," she said apologetically, "but I can't tell you. Dumbledore's afraid that despite all the safety measures, somebody might still manage to inform Voldemort about everything that's going on at Hogwarts, and since killing the Dark Lord is the most important thing of all, we need to keep at least the plan of his downfall a complete secret. So, only a few chosen people know about it."  
  
"And it seems I'm not one of them," muttered Elizabeth. "I can't believe Dumbledore doesn't trust me!"  
  
"He can't afford to risk, Elizabeth," said Hermione soothingly. "The fact that we've discovered a way to kill Voldemort is the only advantage we have, and if we lose it, we'll most probably lose the whole battle as well. And I'm sure you don't want that."  
  
Elizabeth smiled. "You bet I don't." And with a "See ya tomorrow!", she swiftly set off for Ravenclaw Tower.  
  
***  
  
During the weeks that followed, each new day very much resembled the last for Elizabeth. The huge improvement, however, which she, along with the majority of her fellow students, had made over the short period of time during which she had been taking the special Defence Against the Dark Arts classes was another thing altogether. The quickness of her reactions had reached yet another level thanks to Mrs. Figg, Dumbledore had eventually managed to teach her to use not just the 'Fulgur Albus' (if only on figurines dressed in Death Eater clothes so far), but also a charm to protect her from its opposite, the 'Fulgur Ater', and as for Snape ... well, Elizabeth simply couldn't find a way to describe just how much she loved being tutored by him. True, his teaching methods weren't much different from what she was used to in class, but what she definitely wasn't used to was that it seemed almost as if he was enjoying himself, which pleased Elizabeth to no end. As long as Snape was happy, so was she. And so she eagerly took in every single word he told them - how to fight off vampires, zombies, skeletons, Dementors, and any other creatures Voldemort might convince to join the side of the Dark, how to react were they to somehow come face to face with the Dark Lord himself, and even how to heal minor injuries by themselves. The Potions master also used some of the time to take on one or more of his students in various situations which might come up during the real battle, but nor Elizabeth, nor anybody else had ever succeeded in causing him even the slightest bit of damage, making the blond witch realize just how powerful a wizard Snape really was.  
  
Apart from preparing herself for Voldemort and his Death Eaters, Elizabeth and a few others had also chosen to continue their apparition training in the evening, giving the girl practically no free time during the day and causing her to feel unbelievably tired when she finally got to bed at the end of her crammed daily schedule each night. Therefore it was almost impossible for her to continue answering all the angry letters her mother (who, it seemed, wasn't about to accept that her daughter had chosen to stay at Hogwarts and put her life at risk so easily, despite Dumbledore's explanation letter) - as well as her grandmother, for that matter - kept on sending her, and so one day Elizabeth decided to simply write both women for the very last time, thinking that if even that didn't help, then bad luck. She put all the arguments she could possibly think of into that last letter - that if Voldemort gained control of Hogwarts, no place would be safe from him from then on ... not even their supposedly unheeded villa in the countryside, meaning she might just as well go into battle now instead of dying without a fight a only couple of weeks later; that she was going to be extremely careful not to get herself killed; that she was one of the best in Defence Against the Dark Arts, and therefore would be sorely missed if she suddenly decided to chicken out and go home; that she would never leave Snape-  
  
Err, maybe it would be a good idea to cross that last bit out, actually, seeing all the letters had to go through an inspection before being allowed to leave the castle, but no matter - the other arguments were good enough. Well, at least Elizabeth thought so, but her mother obviously didn't share her opinion, since her next letter didn't turn out to be much different from her previous ones. But while she was still far from agreeing with her daughter's course of action, at least she had given up on persuading her to actually change it, which, under the circumstances, was even more than Elizabeth had hoped for. Not that it mattered now, though, anyway, as there were other things on her mind these days - like who were all the strange people who kept coming and going through the Hogwarts gates at the most peculiar hours of the day, and why were they there to begin with. Had they come to help them fight against Voldemort? It certainly seemed so, for besides some very interesting individuals like a woman with pink hair or a wizard with a nose that looked like a cucumber, she also caught a glimpse of two of her former Defence Against the Dark Arts Professors, Lupin and Moody (the real one this time, she supposed), and even her 'all time favourite' teacher, Professor Fletcher. Surprisingly, though, she never saw any Aurors, whom she would have expected to come to protect the school in the first place, but according to Hermione, the main and very simple reason for that was that Dumbledore and the Ministry of Magic have not been on particularly good terms ever since the Dark Lord's return, especially since the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, continually refused to believe that Voldemort was indeed something not to be taken lightly any longer.  
  
And so, watching Hagrid training a group of giants out of her dormitory window one night sometime in October, Elizabeth slowly came to realize just how very real the whole threat of Voldemort attacking Hogwarts actually was, something she had never really bothered to think about before. Yes, she had always been aware of some dark shadow hovering over the wizarding world, but she had somehow convinced herself that while it might concern others, no harm would ever come to her or anybody else in her proximity. Not even when she had started her special Defence Against the Dark Arts classes did she fully realize why exactly it was that she was training so hard to be able to use all sorts of combat spells as effectively as possible, simply because she just took everything as it came and never found the time to give her actions a second thought. But now ... now, for the first time, she was truly scared. She should've been in bed hours ago, and she knew she'd probably be completely useless the following day (or was it today already?) due to the obvious lack of sleep, but somehow she just didn't seem to care, and simply continued sitting on the window sill, thinking her gloomy thoughts and numbly gazing at the happening below.  
  
She might have eventually fallen asleep, she wasn't really sure, but the fact was that suddenly she was very much awake, brought back to reality by somebody's horribly annoying voice yelling "You-Know-Who! You-Know-Who's coming!" over and over again.  
  
Elizabeth stiffened. 'So it had happened at last,' she thought with a shudder and slowly got off the window sill. 'The final battle - the battle for Hogwarts - had begun.'  
  
A/N: I'm back! And it was about time for me to start writing again, too, because I was slowly going out of my mind by not being able to write. Anyway, I am not going to Australia, after all, as I wanted to change the time of my departure and it was no longer possible. So I'm stuck at home. BUT - I finally got all of my exams over and done with, so whenever my brother lets me on the computer, I will write this fic.  
  
Anyway, I know this chapter isn't as interesting as the rest, but I had to do a sort of linking one sometime. The next one should be a little better, but also a lot shorter, which means it should be out soon.  
  
Also, I'd like to thank you guys for all the supportive reviews, telling me that you won't give up on reading my fic even if this chapter takes so long to get out. It meant a lot to me, it really did.  
  
LadyJavert: I'm glad you liked the last chapter; I must say I really enjoyed writing it, even though I felt truly sorry for Snape at the end. But finally something's happening! And don't worry, you won't have to wait long for Snape to give in now - only one more chapter to go and then we'll finally get to the good parts ;-) Anyway, thank you for the review, and I hope you'll still come back to read (and review :-), even after the long wait.  
  
FireValkyrie: Hahaha, that was such a funny review you sent me; thank you! Yeah, I had to sacrifice my writing for the sake of history, and I suffered quite badly, but at least I could work out a lot of the upcoming scenes in my mind, so I won't have to think about them as much when I finally get to them. But it was worth it, because even though I'm not going to Australia (so I'm not meeting cute Aussie boys with cute Aussie accents, but I've already lived in Australia for five years before, and I can tell you all the boys I met were complete idiots - except for the accent which really is great), at least I have passed all my exams so far. I'm glad you like the way I write Snape, and that I don't clearly say why he's being such a bastard and sort of leave it for you people to figure out. And you did, so I'm happy, but for those who haven't, there's this chapter, where Snape's behaviour is thoroughly dissected by Elizabeth's grandmother. Actually, I must say I don't completely agree with you on how you see Snape. Kill for the woman he loves, yes, but only to a certain degree. If she was in danger, for example, or if she had any worries, then he'd definitely stand up for her, but I reckon that if she wanted to leave him for another man, he'd let her go without a fight. He'd be left a complete wreck, but he wouldn't do anything about it, because I think he's got so little confidence in himself that he'd constantly be asking himself why any woman could actually stand being with him, so when she'd finally leave him for another, he wouldn't be all that surprised. Elizabeth will never leave him, though; I'm not that cruel. And as for Snape being sweet with the woman he loves only in private - well, he'll surely be a bit nicer, but I'll do my best not to make him all lovey-dovey, because that would make me sick. And I'm sure you wouldn't enjoy it, either, as you said how much you liked my keeping him IC. I could review that fic you're planning on writing, actually (as soon as I finish my last exam), and tell you if I think Snape's IC or not. Just tell me what it's called. Well, anyway, thank you once more for your response to my author's note, and I hope you had enough coffee to get you through the long wait. I'll be really happy to hear from you again!  
  
Claudia Rocks: Well, unfortunately I'm not coming to your part of the world, after all, but I hope that at least you had fun in Asia. Whereabouts in Australia do you live? Since I've spent almost five years there, I'll most probably know the place, or maybe I might've even been there! Anyway, thank you very much for your response, and I hope you continue reading now that I'm finally back!  
  
A.J.D'Angelo: I'm glad you liked the last chapter; we're finally getting somewhere, aren't we? Well, Snape wasn't exactly nice during the detention, more like nervous and not wanting to say any more than he had to, but he will become if not nice, than at least civil quite soon, so I hope you stick with me, despite the long wait. Thank you very much for reviewing!  
  
The Evil Cup of Tea: Well, I certainly hope that you didn't mean what you said in your response to my unfortunate author's note. Because, as I've said in my review to your story (which you *still* haven't updated, by the way), blaming yourself and your asthma for my not being able to update is just wrong. Let's just say it's all my teachers' fault. Anyway, I kept my promise and I'm back! It was pure torture not being able to write, honestly! I just hope you survived the two months without an update well, and that I'll continue hearing from you right until the end ... which is not that far off now. Cheers!  
  
Summner: Thank you so much for your comment about my English, and also for your kind words concerning my story; even if I didn't have any other reviewers I'd continue writing just for you for that. Anyway, I hope you had a better two months than I did, and here - FINALLY - is the new chapter; hope you like it, and it'd be excellent if I got to hear from you again.  
  
XxDarkGoddessxX: Well, no Australia for me, unfortunately; I'm still at home studying (at least I've managed to pass all my exams so far, though), but I've decided to have a little break to give you a new chapter, so I hope you are still with me to read it. Thank you for your kind words, and I'm looking forward to hearing from you again soon!  
  
Crimson mist: I'm glad you're enjoying the story; here, finally, is a new chapter, so I hope you like that as well. As for Snape acting like a bastard - well, he wouldn't be Snape if he didn't, would he? But yes, I know his behaviour is even worse than usual when it comes to Elizabeth, and I tried to explain the reason for that in this chapter when Elizabeth's grandmother speaks. Hope it came out all right. Anyway, hopefully your holidays turned out to be a lot better than mine, and it'd be cool if I got to hear from you again sometime.  
  
Silverlonna: I'm so glad you like the fic, so here, at long last, is a new update - the longest one so far. Hope you enjoy it, and thank you very much for reviewing! 


	23. The final battle

Chapter 23  
  
The final battle  
  
By the time Elizabeth, along with the other girls from her dormitory, had thrown on some clothes, grabbed her wand, and rushed through the portrait hole, the relative calmness which usually ruled castle had turned into pure chaos. People were screaming, running in all directions, and generally not being particularly helpful when Elizabeth tried to ask them where exactly it was that Voldemort had been spotted. Finally, though, the girls had found at least one person who had meanwhile managed to discover what was going on – Ernie Macmillan – who, it seemed, had made use of his recently obtained Animagus licence to turn into an owl and scan the school grounds from above.  
  
"And?" inquired Elizabeth eagerly. "Where is Voldemort?"  
  
Ernie winced at the sound of the name, but quickly said: "He's coming from the direction of Hogsmeade. Most of the village is in flames now." And, lowering his voice to almost a whisper, he added: "If I were to judge, we don't stand a chance. His army ... his army is dreadful. I saw the most horrible monsters one can possibly think of – zombies, skeletons, vampires, all sorts of demons, even hell hounds... And in the middle of it all – You- Know-Who himself, surrounded by the Death Eaters."  
  
Elizabeth paled when she realized that she was most likely to encounter all of the creatures Ernie had mentioned in only a moment or two, but quickly pulled herself together and, hoping to sound braver than she was feeling, declared: "Maybe it won't be as bad as it looks. Anyway, we should probably get down to the Entrance Hall now, shouldn't we?"  
  
And she determinedly set off towards the nearest staircase, with Ernie and the girls trailing reluctantly behind.  
  
About halfway down the third flight of stairs, and a narrow escape from Peeves the poltergeist (who evidently took great pleasure in creating even more havoc than there already was) later, the group ran into a very flushed- looking Professor Flitwick, who immediately launched into a long monologue about how relieved he was to see them, and just how afraid he was of them leaving their dormitory before he could reach it.  
  
"I was just on the way up to Ravenclaw Tower, you see," he squeaked as they all made their way down the stairs and along the corridors, only with Flitwick in the lead this time, "but got a bit held up along the way. Most of the students and staff are already gathered down in the Entrance Hall, so we'd better hurry if we want to get there before everybody rushes out to start fighting."  
  
"We're going to fight outside?" asked Elizabeth, surprised. "But ... wouldn't staying in the castle give us better protection?"  
  
"Definitely," agreed Flitwick, "but not with the plan that we have. It can only be performed out in the open, you see."  
  
"And what's the plan?" asked Jane, who, it seemed, had finally managed to wake up properly.  
  
"That, unfortunately, is something I cannot tell you," said the tiny wizard apologetically. "The Headmaster wants to keep it a secret until the last minute."  
  
"Ah, the famous secret plan," said Elizabeth mysteriously, remembering what Hermione had told her about it some time ago. And she was just about to start persuading Flitwick to give them at least a hint of what kind of magic Dumbledore was intending to use on the Dark Lord, secrecy or no secrecy, but since at that exact moment they had finally reached the Entrance Hall, all thoughts of interrogation quickly left her mind as she frantically searched the wildly chattering crowd that was taking up most of the room for at least a glimpse of a certain Potions master, being only too aware that it might just as well be the last time she'd ever see him. Unfortunately, though, Dumbledore, having seen Flitwick and the others arrive, had just decided that losing any more time could prove fatal for the outcome of the battle, and so, after quickly wishing them all good luck, beckoned Mr Filch to open the castle gates, thus unconsciously destroying any further chances of Elizabeth spotting her beloved, as in the madness that ensued it was downright impossible to see anything at all.  
  
"Good luck, Elizabeth," said Jane gravely, coming up to her friend's side. "Hope to see you alive and well at the end of it all."  
  
Elizabeth managed a weak smile. "Thanks, Jane. Good luck to you, too."  
  
And with that, both girls left the castle and entered hell.  
  
***  
  
The cool night air brushed against Elizabeth's cheeks as she stepped out into the open, and (unlike Jane, who had immediately run off in search of Justin) for a moment the girl simply let her eyes wander over the scene before her in an attempt to decide what to do next. It was still dark, but the sky was so illuminated by the enormous fire in Hogsmeade that Elizabeth found she had absolutely no trouble seeing. Which way should she take, though? The castle gates behind her were slowly closing again, and eventually snapped shut with a huge 'bang'. On the Quidditch pitch on her left a joined army of zombies and skeletons was unsuccessfully trying to fend off a group of students. Near the Forbidden Forest right ahead of her spells and curses were flying through the air at such a rate that she couldn't even determine who exactly was sending them. On her right, by the lake, everything was quiet.  
  
Finally deciding to follow Jane's example and head for the Forbidden Forest, Elizabeth swiftly started walking, clutching her wand in her right hand like a sword and darting her eyes in all directions in an attempt to spot any potential danger before it could spot her. And it had paid off, too, because she had barely taken ten steps when she noticed two figures running towards her from the supposedly quiet right side, shouting something she didn't quite understand. Elizabeth was as quick as lightning, and in a matter of milliseconds she was already facing the two strangers with her wand pointed in their direction, ready to say the fatal incantation as soon as she found out whether they were not, by any chance, her allies.  
  
It seemed like ages before it was possible to determine who the two people were, but finally they had come close enough for Elizabeth to see their faces, giving the girl quite a surprise when she discovered that they were, in fact...  
  
"Crabbe? Goyle?" she asked, as if for confirmation, and slowly lowered her wand. "What's going on?"  
  
"It's Draco," panted Crabbe. "He's having a quarrel with his father. It ... it looks like they are going to attack one another soon, but we don't know how to stop it. You've got to help him, Woodhouse!"  
  
Elizabeth paused to consider what was being asked of her. Help Draco? The boy whom she had always wished nothing but the worst? Then again, after what she had heard in Snape's office, she had to admit that she had somewhat changed her opinion of him, and while she still didn't like him, she definitely didn't think he deserved to die.  
  
"All right," she agreed finally. "Where are they?"  
  
"Over there!" Goyle waved his hand in a vague direction of somewhere between the castle and the lake and started running. Elizabeth and Crabbe followed.  
  
They had been sprinting along the castle wall for a minute or two when Elizabeth suddenly heard some voices coming from somewhere behind the nearest corner, and from the sound of it, their owners were definitely angry. Instinctively, Elizabeth slowed down, and, motioning for the boys to do the same, quietly started edging closer to where she'd be safe to see what was going on but wouldn't be seen herself, all the while listening to what was being said.  
  
"How dare you stand up to your father like that!" yelled a man's voice, presumably belonging to Lucius Malfoy. "After all I've done for you, this is how you repay me?"  
  
"Professor Snape has been acting more like a father of mine than you ever have," retorted another voice, which Elizabeth instantly recognized as Draco's.  
  
"I'll deal with that traitor later, don't you worry. But for now..."  
  
Sensing danger in the man's voice, Elizabeth immediately dismissed all attempts at being cautious and covered the rest of the way in several giant strides, with Crabbe and Goyle hastily following her example. But as soon as she emerged from behind the corner and quickly took in the scene before her, she knew that she had come too late: Lucius Malfoy, his wand pointed at his son, had just yelled "Fulgur Ater!", and even though Draco had managed to make at least some sort of move to dodge the spell, it still hit him dangerously close to the heart, causing the boy to collapse to the ground with a soft 'thud'.  
  
"You bastard!" yelled Crabbe when he saw what had happened to his friend, throwing himself forward before Elizabeth had had the chance to stop him. Lucius Malfoy reacted almost immediately, and, turning away from his son, raised his wand to get rid of his attacker in the same way that he had eliminated Draco. Elizabeth, however, anticipated what was going to happen, and was just about to finish Mr Malfoy off before he could cause any more damage when a flash of white light hit the man straight in the head from behind, killing him instantly. Someone had been quicker than Elizabeth, and it didn't take long for her to figure out just who that someone was. Draco, whom she had thought to be either dead, or at least unconscious, was lying on his side with a wand in his hand and a satisfied smile on his face, but otherwise looked as though he wouldn't live to see the next day. The wound on his chest had turned black, with the blackness now slowly spreading in all directions, creeping closer and closer to the boy's heart. Elizabeth knew she had to act quickly if she still wanted to save him, and, conjuring a stretcher, ordered Crabbe and Goyle, who were now both standing nearby with looks of uncertainty on their faces, to get Draco to the hospital wing as fast as possible.  
  
"Filch will hopefully let you in if you tell him it's an emergency," she told them, and was just about to leave them to their fate and head back to her original destination, the Forbidden Forest, when...  
  
"Woodhouse!" a soft voice called, causing Elizabeth to stop dead in her tracks and turn around, only to see Draco giving her a 'come-over-here' look from the stretcher. Curious as to what the boy might want, Elizabeth caught up with his two bodyguards to walk by his side for a while, hoping a simple "Yes?" would encourage him to tell her more.  
  
Draco seemed to have quite a bit of trouble breathing for a while, but eventually managed to find the strength to speak and whispered: "Make sure Professor Snape's all right, will you?"  
  
Elizabeth couldn't help but smile. If only he knew...  
  
"Of course, Draco," she quickly assured the boy, noticing his expectant (and also a little curious) look.  
  
"And also..." the blond wizard took a shaky breath, "...also Hermione."  
  
Whatever Elizabeth had expected, it certainly wasn't this. "Hermione?" she repeated blankly. "But why would-"  
  
Suddenly, though, Elizabeth knew exactly why Draco would care whether anything happened to her friend or not, remembering a certain episode in their fifth year when she had, simply to embarrass the boy, suggested that he might have a thing for the bushy-haired witch, but, despite his curious reaction, never cared to give it a second thought. Draco had stopped insulting them since then, after all.  
  
"Oh," was all she managed at first. And then, as if to confirm her thoughts: "You still like her, don't you?"  
  
Draco simply nodded, evidently not trusting himself to speak any longer, and so Elizabeth, seeing she could do no more for him at the moment, eventually chose to let him be and go about her own business for now, giving the boy a small reassuring smile before she did so. It was the least she could do for him, after all, and she suddenly found herself thinking what a shame it would be if he were to die. True, they would probably never be friends, but at least she understood him a lot more now ... especially where it concerned Hermione. She knew perfectly well what unreturned love was-  
  
Here, Elizabeth's thoughts were promptly cut off by a group of vampires gliding her way, who had almost succeeded in catching her unprepared, but after she had managed to somewhat recover from the shock that their sudden appearance had given her, it was only a matter of seconds before she completely disposed of them with several of the fire spells Snape had taught her, leaving behind only several piles of ashes.  
  
Having successfully endured a few more encounters of the same nature, Elizabeth finally reached the Forbidden Forest, and for a moment couldn't help but simply stare in shock at the madness that was unfolding before her. Dead bodies everywhere and various curses constantly lighting up everything around her ... maybe Judgement Day had come at last? And maybe she should just dismiss any such thoughts for now and concentrate on keeping herself alive instead, seeing a Death Eater had almost managed to hit her with an 'Avada Kedavra'.  
  
A while later, the said Death Eater had already joined the enormous mass of corpses littering the Hogwarts grounds, and Elizabeth, slightly out of breath, continued penetrating further and further into the heart of the whole battle.  
  
'I need to find Snape,' she thought desperately, petrifying a hell hound just before it sank its teeth into her leg. 'I need to make sure he's all right. It's what Draco wants me to do as well, after all.'  
  
Firing spells left and right, Elizabeth eventually managed to reach the very centre of all happening, but while she did catch a glimpse of Hermione, Neville, Dumbledore, and even most of the other teachers, Snape was nowhere in sight. Nor was Voldemort, come to think of it; a fact Elizabeth didn't like at all. But just when she was about to give up and start searching elsewhere, she finally spotted both men (if one *could* get away with calling Voldemort a man, that is) at exactly the same time, enveloped in a gruesome duel with one another some forty metres away from her, and slightly separated from the terrible battle that was raging all around them. What she also saw, however, was that some determined-looking Death Eater, who had until then been kept busy by Ron Weasley, but who had just blasted the boy off his feet with some spell or other, was now rapidly making his way in Snape's direction, evidently intending to attack him from behind. Elizabeth didn't even have to think about what she had to do, immediately breaking into a wild run and managing to throw herself between the Dark Lord's servant and Snape just as the Death Eater raised his wand and yelled "Fulgur Ater!" What she didn't manage, however, was to produce the adequate charm to protect her from the spell's effects, letting out a muffled cry as the black beam from the Death Eater's wand hit her left shoulder. Wincing with pain, Elizabeth sank down on her knees, but despite the blackness that was slowly threatening to overcome her, she knew there was still one thing to be done, seeing the Death Eater was now getting ready to finally finish Snape off. And so, having gathered every ounce of strength she still possessed, the blond witch shakily pointed her wand at him and, in a voice she barely recognized, cried the first incantation that came to her mind, which, fortunately, happened to be nothing more and nothing less than the 'Fulgur Albus'. The Death Eater, not really expecting her to put up any more resistance after what he had done to her, was taken completely by surprise, collapsing to the ground in a lifeless heap before he even realized what had hit him. Satisfied, Elizabeth threw one more look in Snape's direction to find out how he was doing, but after that she knew no more, the incredible pain she was experiencing causing her to finally black out.  
  
A/N: My fastest update yet! The next chapter (hope none of you thought *this* was the end!) will definitely take a lot longer to write, however, as I'll be starting school again and therefore won't have as much time for writing. I'd also like it to be absolutely perfect, seeing it'll be the most important chapter of all. I've been looking forward to it ever since I started writing this fic, actually, so for almost a year.  
  
Anyway, I'd like to say a big thank you to all my reviewers, especially those who've stayed with me despite the incredibly long time they had to wait for the last chapter – you know who you are :-)  
  
Orli is mine: You don't have to beg for an update, I'll give it to you even of my free will :-) But seriously, I'm glad you like the story, and I hope this new chapter didn't disappoint you. Thank you very much for reviewing! Cool nickname, by the way; I like Orlando too, although in my eyes nobody can rival Rickman alias Snape :-)  
  
XxDark GoddessxX: Aww, I could never forget this fic, and even though it's a shame that I can't go to Australia, I'm just happy that I can finally get back to my writing. All the wonderful reviews are maybe even better than Australia, in my opinion. Anyway, I'm glad you liked the last chapter so much, even though I thought it was somewhat boring in places. Thank you for the thoroughly encouraging review, and for sticking with me despite the long wait. Hope to keep hearing from you right until the end!  
  
FireValkyrie: Well, I was mostly bullied by the Aussie boys when I lived there, but I'm sure that if I went there now, they wouldn't stand a chance :-) Anyway, I'm sorry that I didn't get what you meant about Snape for the first time, but at least we understand each other now. Like you said, it would depend on the circumstances whether Snape would fight for his love or not. And yes, I'm also not really trying to figure him out, because trying to get into his thoughts would be just wrong, in my opinion. Let him just say whatever he wants to say in my fic, and he can keep his innermost thoughts to himself, for all I care. There hasn't been too much of him in the last two chapters, I know, but the next chapter should be all Snape and Elizabeth, so let's see if I can still keep him IC and not make him go all sweet. It's a shame I can't have him acting like a complete bastard forever, really, as I have almost no problem writing him that way, but trying to make him act civil for once will undoubtedly be tough. As for your fics – I'll definitely go and read them sometime (hope the other one doesn't stay on hiatus forever, though, as I think that starting a fic and not finishing it is just wrong), and then tell you what I think. I'm glad your writing has improved; I think it just had to come, because the more you write, the better you get. It worked with me, that's for sure, because when I go to look at the very first chapters of this fic now, I can't help but be horrified by my poor use of English. Anyway, whatever gave you the idea that there'll only be one more chapter left? You're not going to get rid of me that easily :-); no, there'll be about 4 or 5 more chapters after this one. Well, I'm incredibly happy that you've stayed with me, so thank you for the review (if you're happy to see an Author's Alert waiting for you, what should I say when I find that you've sent me a review?), and I really hope to hear from you again!  
  
Ilovststionary (wasn't it meant to be stationary?): Hehe, I'm happy you find the fic gripping; I'm doing my best. Anyway, I suppose your sad puppy eyes must've worked with me, because I finished this chapter in two days. Hope you enjoy it as much as the rest, and thank you for reviewing!  
  
2lazy2logn: That has to be the most original review I've ever received, so thank you; it amused me greatly! I did my best to give you a fast update, so I hope it was fast enough. You'll have to wait a bit longer for the next chapter, though, and not even another dose of 'please' will change that, but that doesn't mean you can't try :-) Anyway, I'm glad to see that someone's enjoying the fic so much, so thanks again for reviewing!  
  
ALittleBitOfDarkness: Oh gods, thank you SO much for that absolutely wonderful review! You simply can't imagine how great it made an amateur writer like me feel. Especially since English isn't my first language, even though I try to improve it all the time. As for my using only one perspective – I don't know, but I just find doing that a lot easier than writing from Snape's POV as well from time to time, mainly because I really don't want to invade his mind. I'd like him to remain as mysterious as possible for me, so I try to imagine what he might be thinking only when the plot really needs it. Oh, but I am by far not as good as J.K.Rowling; she had created the whole world, including Snape, in the first place, so I am forever in her debt for being able to borrow her characters and play with them. Anyway, thank you once more for the incredible ego-booster, as well as for putting me on your favourites list, and it'd be really cool if I got to hear from you again sometime.  
  
Padfoot's Girl: I'm so happy that are still with me! And you really don't have to thank me for coming back; I simply couldn't live with myself if I didn't finish this fic, and not being able to write it was completely killing me! I'm glad you didn't mind the last chapter being a sort of explanation one, even though, as you realized, some new questions had come up in it as well. I hope everything about the war had been covered in this new chapter, but you'll have to wait for the answers to your other questions until next time. I can't wait for that, too! Anyway, thank you so much for reviewing, and I really hope I'll get to hear from you again! 


	24. Losses and gains I

Chapter 24  
  
Losses and gains  
  
When Elizabeth eventually regained consciousness, at first she had absolutely no idea of where she was (and even who she was, come to think of it); her initial guess being that she had, in fact, died and gone to heaven.  
  
'So ... why am I lying in bed, then?' her mind reasoned. 'Why does my whole body hurt like somebody had run over it with a steam roller at least a dozen times? Surely people who go to heaven don't feel any pain?'  
  
But pain was exactly what she did feel, mostly just the numb sort of one, but at times it became so intense that it felt as if a million knives were slowly being driven into her skin, making her want to scream and scream until she'd eventually lose herself in the wonderful world of unconsciousness where nothing would hurt her any longer.  
  
'All right, so I'm probably not in heaven,' she decided, getting this far. 'I'm somewhere else. But where?'  
  
She carefully looked around, doing her best not to move her aching body more than was necessary, but all she could see was whiteness. And beds ... lots of beds with people in them. And Jane, Hermione and Neville, sitting by her bedside and talking quietly.  
  
Jane, Hermione and Neville? How come she knew their names when she couldn't even remember her own? How come-  
  
And then, all of a sudden, everything came back to her.  
  
The war.  
  
Draco's quarrel with his father.  
  
Snape fighting with Voldemort.  
  
Snape. How could she ever, even for a moment, forget about him? Was he all right? Had he survived? Had Voldemort been defeated?  
  
Whatever happened, Elizabeth had to know – now.  
  
'First things first, though,' she told herself firmly, which, in this case, meant a very slow and careful shift to a more appropriate position for a conversation. She had barely raised her head from the pillow, however, when she caught sight of something black resting on her covers ... and screamed.  
  
"Elizabeth!" exclaimed Hermione, immediately rushing to her friend's side, closely followed by Jane and Neville. "You're awake! Thank goodness; we were beginning to get worried!"  
  
Elizabeth, however, completely ignored the Gryffindor's excited words. "My ... my hand's all black!" she stuttered, staring at the exposed limb in shock. "And ... and..."  
  
"And a part of your chest, neck and cheek as well, I know," said Hermione calmly, evidently feeling the need to inform her friend about her exact state before she'd find out herself and freak out again. "It's going to be all right, though, so don't worry. And be glad that Madam Pomfrey had managed to stop the blackness from spreading before it reached your heart. When Snape-"  
  
"Snape!" exclaimed Elizabeth, suddenly remembering all the questions she was going to ask before getting all worked up about her injuries. "Where is he? Is he all right? And what about Voldemort?"  
  
"Ssh, Elizabeth, calm down," said Hermione quietly, pulling her chair right up to the bed and sitting down again. "You don't want Madam Pomfrey to swoop down upon us, do you?"  
  
"No, I just-"  
  
"Yes, I know, you just want to find out everything at once," smiled Hermione, who had obviously been chosen as the one to tell her. "Well, firstly, I can assure you that Snape is just fine; he wasn't seriously injured, and he was actually the one to carry you up here. He even came back to check on you once, I believe."  
  
Elizabeth, although relieved to discover that her beloved was OK, thought she was hearing things. "C-carry me up?" she asked, bewildered. "He didn't use magic?"  
  
"No, he was too drained out, just like the rest of us. Killing Voldemort takes quite a bit out of you, you know."  
  
This was all too good to be true, and Elizabeth found herself wondering whether the bad news, which, as she knew only too well, were bound to come sooner or later, would be bad enough to compensate for all the wonderful things she'd heard so far. "So he's ... he's finally dead?" she asked, just to make sure. "For good?"  
  
Hermione flashed her an enormous smile. "Yes, Elizabeth, he is. And I suppose that now that it's all over there'd be no harm in finally telling you exactly how we finished him off, as I remember just how upset you were when I didn't tell you last time." She paused to take a breath, put her hand on top of Neville's, as if to seek reassurance, and then continued: "Well, it was all quite simple, really. As I'm sure you know, the more people use the same spell at the same time, the stronger it becomes. So, all we had to do was to get a group of people to form a circle around Voldemort and send the 'Fulgur Albus' at him – a spell which, as Dumbledore had told the chosen few who were to perform it, was originally created with the intention to help the good wizards and witches get rid of some truly frightful ancient monsters of the Dark who had until then resisted every known spell, even if it were sent by many people at once. But the 'Fulgur Albus' was different. It was designed to be used only by those who were on the same side – the side of the Light, wishing to deprive the world of some sort of evil, and uniting to fight as one. If these conditions were met, and a number of people joined to produce the spell at the same time, it became powerful enough to destroy practically anything. Obviously, though, the Dark wizards didn't give up so easily, and soon came up with the 'Fulgur Ater', naively hoping that it would work in much the same way as its opposite. Well, I think I hardly need to say how horribly wrong they were in their calculations, for soon it was clear that it made absolutely no difference whether the dark lightning was used by one person or more; it's strength was always the same. Surely you can guess why?"  
  
Elizabeth didn't even have to think about the answer; it was so obvious she almost laughed. "Because Dark wizards can't unite," she said simply. "They only think about themselves, and the profit they can make out of whatever they do. The word loyalty doesn't exist in their dictionary; they'd betray their own mother if they knew there'd be something good in it for them. Isn't that right?"  
  
"I wouldn't have said it better myself," said the Gryffindor with a smile.  
  
"What I don't understand, though," continued Elizabeth thoughtfully, "is how come Voldemort never managed to figure out how you were planning to kill him. I'm sure he must've found out about Dumbledore teaching us the 'Fulgur Albus', despite all the safety precautions, so why didn't he simply look up its effects in some book or other if he didn't know them? He'd realize his fate straight away, wouldn't he?"  
  
"Good point, Elizabeth, but the problem with that suggestion is that a book like that simply doesn't exist. And since, until now, the white lightning hadn't been used for centuries, there aren't too many wizards who know about it these days. Dumbledore seemed to trust the few who do not to share their knowledge with anyone, which, fortunately for us, left Voldemort with absolutely no chance of finding anything out."  
  
"I see," said Elizabeth. "So ... who exactly was in that secret group of yours, the one that eventually destroyed him?"  
  
"Well, only those who had Dumbledore's complete trust, I'd say," replied Hermione cautiously, evidently afraid that her friend would start complaining again about the unfairness of having been left out. "All the teachers, including Professors Lupin and Moody; Harry, Ron, Neville and I; the whole of Ron's family with the exception of one of his brothers, who works for the Ministry; Harry's godfather, Sirius Black; and, of course, Dumbledore himself. But I think that the key person was probably Snape, who had the most demanding task of us all. You see, he was to keep Voldemort occupied and make sure he wouldn't disappear anywhere right until the end, when, hopefully, the rest of us would surround him and finally get rid of him once for all."  
  
"But ... wouldn't it have been better if you had Dumbledore doing that, rather than Snape?" asked Elizabeth. "I mean, I know Snape's a great wizard, but to keep resisting Voldemort for god-knows-how-long could've proven too much even for him, couldn't it?"  
  
"Well, yes, but we thought that Voldemort wouldn't really fancy a duel with Dumbledore right from the start, because he knew it'd cost him most of the strength he was hoping to save for later, to finish us off. Which means he'd probably make a hasty retreat at the mere sight of the Headmaster, and only come back if he knew his army was close to winning. Snape, on the other hand, was absolutely perfect for the task, since Voldemort was not only willing to do practically anything to make him pay for his betrayal, but also, like you pointed out, didn't think him strong enough to put up much resistance."  
  
"So ... you used Snape as some sort of bait," said Elizabeth incredulously, feeling her temper rise. "You would've let him-"  
  
"It was the only option, Elizabeth," said Hermione firmly. "And, as you can see, it was successful."  
  
"Pity you haven't been there to see the giants, Elizabeth," stated Neville, obviously deciding that it was about time to change the subject. "I think Voldemort was just about to start congratulating himself on how well he was doing when Hagrid suddenly led them out of the Forbidden Forest, and you should've seen the way they dealt with the remains of the Dark army. Completely crushed them, that's what they did."  
  
"Or take the house-elves," Jane chimed in. "I would never have imagined just how powerful they can be if they want to; it's a shame you didn't get to see them. The Death Eaters didn't know what had hit them when they suddenly appeared on the battle field."  
  
Hermione muttered something about house-elf rights Elizabeth didn't quite understand, but she chose to ignore it and skipped instead to the one question that had been at the back of her mind right from the start, only she didn't have the heart to bring it up earlier: "Um ... I'm not sure if I really want to ask this, but since I'd probably find out sooner or later anyway, I think it'd be best if you just told me now..." She paused, took a deep breath, and then, looking straight at her three friends, asked: "Were our losses too bad? Could you tell me who ... who..." she trailed off, hoping to get an answer even without having to finish the sentence.  
  
Her words, however, were followed by nothing but silence. Hermione gave her a long, sad look, and then dropped her gaze to the floor, her eyes suddenly filled with tears. Neville immediately put his arms around her, whispering several undefinable words of comfort in her ear, but otherwise saying nothing. Jane opened her mouth, glanced at Hermione, and quickly closed it again. But even this was enough for Elizabeth to figure out what had probably happened ... Hermione had lost one of her closest friends. But which one? Harry? Ron? Or, even worse, both of them?  
  
"I ... I'm sorry," she began. "If you don't want to talk about it, I'm not- "  
  
"No," said Neville quietly, still holding his girlfriend in his arms and gently stroking her hair. "Like you said, it'd be best if we got it over and done with." He sighed. "It's ... it's Ron. He was killed by one of the Death Eaters. And his ... his sister Ginny ... she's dead too."  
  
Hermione glanced up at Neville's words, her cheeks streaked with tears, and Elizabeth turned to her with a look of deepest sympathy. "Oh, Hermione," she said softly. "I'm so sorry. I-"  
  
"It's ... it's OK," the bushy-haired witch choked out. "He ... he wouldn't have liked me to grieve for him like this. He would've told me to move on. He..." Burying her face in her hands, she suddenly broke into a fresh set of tears, leaving the sentence unfinished.  
  
Elizabeth almost felt like crying herself at the sight of her, but eventually pulled herself together and, turning towards Neville, whispered: "What about Harry? Is *he* all right, at least?"  
  
"Yes, he should be fine," replied Neville, shifting his chair even closer to Hermione's so that she could lean against him. "A few days here, in the infirmary, and he'll be as good as new."  
  
Elizabeth let out a sigh of relief. Losing one friend is definitely bad, but losing two...  
  
"And the others?" she asked anxiously. "Who else didn't survive?"  
  
"Well, we've lost quite a lot of the teachers," said Neville thoughtfully. "Professor Trelawney was killed right at the beginning by a vampire; Professor-"  
  
"Funny, isn't it?" Jane cut in with a snigger. "She predicted everyone's death at least once a month, but in the end she couldn't even predict her own. It might've saved her life if she did."  
  
"I'm not really sure if that would've helped, actually," said Elizabeth. "You can't change a prophecy once it's made; she told us herself several times. But enough about that; go on, Neville."  
  
"-Professor Vector was torn apart by a bunch of hell hounds; Professors Sinistra and Sprout were both hit by the 'Fulgur Ater', and were dead long before we could get them up to the hospital wing; Professor Fletcher was no match for one of the skeletons; Madam Hooch was overpowered by an army of zombies; Professor Lupin-" Jane sighed deeply at the mention of her former crush's name; his death had evidently afflicted her more than she was willing to admit "-was killed by the 'Avada Kedavra'; Mrs Figg, despite her ability to turn invisible, was knocked unconscious by a stray curse which immediately caused the invisiblity to lift, making her an easy target for one of the Death Eaters; Hagrid-"  
  
Hermione let out a heart-breaking sob and looked up. "Hagrid was ... was given the Dementor's kiss," she sniffed. "Nobody knows what to do with him now ... he just sits there, in his little hut, staring into space with unseeing eyes... It's not fair, Elizabeth! He was the last person in the world to deserve such a fate! He was always so ... so..." She trailed off, now sobbing uncontrollably.  
  
"Sssh, Hermione," said Neville soothingly, allowing her to cry into his shoulder. "I know he didn't deserve it. None of them did, even if it wasn't a Dementor's kiss that had ended their life. But even though they're physically gone, at least we can still keep them alive in our memories, where they'll remain unchanged even as we grow old and ill." And then, as if to emphasize his words, he started naming all the victims of the battle he hadn't mentioned so far, ticking them off on his fingers as he did so: "Sirius, who had fought bravely until the very last minute; Joshua and Jamie, who had never managed to beat me at the amount of melted cauldrons; Lavender Brown, who was only ever worried about her looks; Hannah Abbott, who had never put a toe out of line; Draco Malfoy-"  
  
Elizabeth looked up so sharply she thought she'd die from the incredible pain that suddenly shot from her neck into the rest of her body. "Draco ... Draco's dead?" she managed to choke out, closing her eyes in relief as the pain slowly faded away.  
  
Neville gave her an inquiring look. "Yes, why?"  
  
That's right, why? Why did his death upset her so much more than the others? True, even as Crabbe and Goyle were carrying him off to the hospital wing she found herself thinking about how sad it'd be were he to die, but now that it had actually happened, she felt positively shattered, almost as if she had lost a good friend. Could those few words she had shared with him after the incident with his father have created some kind of invisible bond between them? Or was it just the simple fact that she had suddenly found somebody who was going through the same thing as she was?  
  
"I'm not sure," she answered truthfully. "It's just ... did you know he was on our side?"  
  
"Yes, we did. One of the few Slytherins who had remained loyal to Dumbledore he was, too. Most of his friends had run off to Voldemort's side as soon as they left the castle, the bastards. But we couldn't really have expected anything else, could we?"  
  
"No, I suppose not," said Elizabeth absently, her mind already on other things.  
  
'I wish somebody would tell me what to do,' she thought desperately. 'Should I tell Hermione about Draco's feelings for her? Wouldn't I betray him somehow if I did? For I'm sure he would never have told her while he was alive, but then again, that's not really the case any more, is it? It's not as if it's going to make that much of a difference now, anyway, and at least it'll cause Hermione to start thinking about something else than her dead friends. Not to mention the fact that I'd really love to get it off my mind...'  
  
"Um, Hermione?" she began uncertainly. "I ... I think you should know something. You see, unbelievable as it may seem, Draco ... he ... he loved you."  
  
Hermione slowly raised her tear-stained face from Neville's shoulder, her expression somewhere between surprise and disbelief. "He did?" she asked softly. "Poor soul ... and to think I never really believed you when you suggested it that time we met him before our first Animagi lesson... But ... wait a minute ... do you mean to say that he actually *told* you?"  
  
Elizabeth nodded, and proceeded to give her three friends a quick account of Draco's duel with his father, concentrating especially on what the boy had told her afterwards.  
  
"Well, it seems like there was some good in him, after all," declared Jane when the blond witch had finished. "Who would've thought?"  
  
"He must have had quite an unhappy life," said Hermione thoughtfully. "His parents didn't seem exactly the loving kind to me, and, not counting Crabbe and Goyle, I don't think he had any real friends, either. Maybe that was why he kept on treating everyone the way he did ... because he was jealous of them. Perhaps if I had looked past all the insults, and tried to get to know him better, I could've done something for him. I might've even-"  
  
"Now, Hermione, don't you dare start blaming yourself for his death," interrupted Elizabeth, easily anticipating what her friend was about to say. "You know as well as I do that nobody could've really done anything to prevent what had happened between him and his father, so please keep that in mind whenever you feel like thinking otherwise, OK?"  
  
Hermione gave a reluctant nod, and Elizabeth, obviously satisfied with her reaction, hastily turned her attention towards her other best friend, suddenly realizing the suspicious absence of her boyfriend. "Jane?" she began tentatively. "It just occurred to me ... why isn't Justin here? He's not ... you know..." she trailed off, watching the tall Ravenclaw with worry in her eyes and silently praying for her answer to be anything but positive.  
  
"Dead?" finished Jane airily. "No, fortunately not. He's here, in the hospital wing, having suffered some light injuries thanks to one particularly nasty hell hound, but Madam Pomfrey said he should be all right in... Elizabeth!?" she exclaimed anxiously, noticing her friend suddenly dig her nails into her covers and double up in pain. "Are ... are you OK?"  
  
Elizabeth, however, didn't answer. She felt as if her whole body was on fire, black and red spots were flashing before her eyes and her head was spinning. Only vaguely did she hear some shouts and the sound of running footsteps coming from somewhere close by, because all she could register was the incredible pain that was seemingly invading every single part of her body. But just when she thought she wouldn't be able to stand it any longer, the pain suddenly died away, leaving as unexpectedly as it had come.  
  
Slowly, Elizabeth's surroundings came back into focus. She could see Hermione and Neville, huddling together at the foot of her bed, she could see Jane, standing by her chair and looking amusingly uncertain, and, to her relief, she could also see Madam Pomfrey, sitting on the edge of her bed and pushing a goblet with some insipid-looking liquid into her hand.  
  
"Drink this," she ordered and, seeing Elizabeth's questioning look, added: "It's something to make the pain a little more bearable, and it'll also make you sleep. I daresay you've talked more than enough for today." And she shot a meaningful glance in the direction of her three friends, who, after whispering a quick goodbye, immediately took their leave and soon disappeared out of view.  
  
Elizabeth cast a longing look after them, but quickly turned her attention back to the goblet in her hand as Madam Pomfrey cleared her throat a little more loudly than was necessary and got to her feet. Downing the medicine in several huge gulps (and almost spitting the yellowish liquid back out again after discovering that it tasted even worse than it looked), Elizabeth handed the goblet back to the impatient-looking mediwitch and, seeing the woman was about to leave her for the time being, quickly seized the opportunity and asked: "Madam Pomfrey, how long am I going to be here?"  
  
Madam Pomfrey threw her a look of something between irritation (for holding her up, no doubt) and pity, letting several long seconds pass before she answered.  
  
"About six weeks, I'm afraid."  
  
Elizabeth felt as if she'd just been told that she was to go to Azkaban. "Six weeks?" she repeated weakly. "But ... why so long? Surely the injuries aren't *that* bad?"  
  
The older witch sighed. "Miss Woodhouse, I assure you that you really couldn't have ended up much worse. You're lucky to be alive, to tell you the truth. And since the only cure for injuries caused by the 'Fulgur Ater', the Tear of Life, can only be applied once, after which there's nothing to be done except wait for it to slowly spread to all the parts of the body that have been affected, all you can do is be patient and simply let the Tear of Life heal you at its own pace."  
  
Elizabeth's heart sank. It seemed there was indeed no getting out of it – she'd have to spend six enormously long and boring weeks in the hospital wing. What had she done to deserve something like that?  
  
"Can't you at least put some bandages on all the black areas?" she asked desperately. "It's a terrible sight."  
  
"No, Miss Woodhouse, I'm afraid I can't. The skin needs to breathe in order to heal properly. Now, if you'll excuse me – I'd like to get back to my other patients." And with a look that clearly said that any further questions would most likely be left unanswered, Madam Pomfrey gracefully departed, leaving Elizabeth on her own with nothing more than her gloomy thoughts to keep her company.  
  
'Six weeks!' she thought dejectedly. 'I'll probably bore myself to death by the time they finally consider me healed enough to let me out of here. Not to mention the fact that unless Snape came to visit me, which is highly unlikely, since he had already fulfilled his duty by coming back to make sure whether I was all right while I was still unconscious, there's almost no chance of my seeing him...'  
  
But Elizabeth never got any further with her musings, for at that moment, the potion she had drunk earlier finally took the desired effect, causing her to fall into a deep, relaxing slumber where nothing, not even Snape, mattered any longer.  
  
A/N: After giving it some thought, I decided to split this chapter into two, because I've realized that finishing it would take me an enormously long time, and I didn't want to keep all of you waiting for so long. My timetable's absolutely disgusting, I have almost no free time for writing, so please try to bear with me, OK? Sorry there's no Snape in this half- chapter like I promised there would be; I'll try to compensate for that in the second part.  
  
Anyway, like always, thank you sooo much for all the encouraging reviews; they really make my life worth living. I love you all!  
  
FireValkyrie: Oh, well, if the hiatus is only in your head, then that's fine. Let the Pirates of the Carribean (at least I hope that was what the abbreviation stood for) take over for now :) It's a cool movie, I agree; I've seen it four times already. How about you? Anyway, you're right – lots of fun stuff coming up in the rest of the chapters; it's a pity I didn't get to it in this one yet. But yes, Rowling doesn't really show us much of the civil Snape, does she? I'll just have to hope that the way I see him in my mind is right, and that you, as well as the rest of my readers, see him the same way. I've been wondering a lot lately what Rowling is going to do with Snape in the last two books, and I must say I didn't like what I came up with at all. It's a well known fact that she doesn't like him, so I reckon his fate isn't going to be entirely happy. She'd better not kill him, though, or she'll have me and all the other Snape fans out there to answer to... Anyway, I didn't mean to talk about this at all, what I really wanted to say is thank you very much for another nice review, hopefully I'll get to hear from you again soon, and please let me know when you upload your fic, OK?  
  
The Evil Cup of Tea: You're still with me! I'm so happy, I really am! And it's so cool you don't think this story is going downhill, even though I'm not so sure about this half-chapter, where nothing really happens. And there's no Snape in it, either. But anyway, what about your fic? Have you given up on it completely? That would be a shame, but, of course, I can't force you to write, can I? I'd really like to thank you for reviewing again, though; I hope to keep hearing from you, and I also hope your asthma's not giving you too much trouble. Cheers!  
  
ALittleBitOfDarkness: You really think my English is that good? I'm flattered! I think it could still be a *lot* better, though. As for Rowling's characters being one-dimensional – well, you are probably right in a way ... Ron sure is, and also Hermione most of the time (even though in the fifth book we saw that she knows not only everything concerning school, but that she can cope with boy/girl problems as well), and Draco, of course, but I reckon that apart from Dumbledore and Harry, we also saw another side of McGonagall and Neville in the fifth, and as far as Snape is concerned, I really don't think Rowling could've done a better job with him. I'm convinced we'll get to know a lot more about him later on, but for the time being, JK can't really have Harry pondering over his nicer side, can she? It was enough that he actually felt sorry for him at one time. But anyway, I'm incredibly happy that you don't find my characters one- dimensional; I'm just writing them how I feel they should behave, and am glad that it comes out well. So, yeah ... thank you very much for another beautiful review (that wasn't really a cliffie at the end of the last chapter; I'm sure you knew I'd never let anything happen to Elizabeth), and I hope to hear from you again!  
  
Claudia Rocks: I haven't been to Traralgon, unfortunately (all I can remember from my visits to Victoria are the Snowy Mountains, where we went skiing quite often, and Melbourne), but I know what you mean about a much bigger hole being on the map while your town isn't. I noticed it too, and maybe that's one of the reasons why we got lost so often when we decided to explore some outback part of Australia. Anyway, yes, 'Snapeykins' :) is indeed falling for Elizabeth (at last), and the part where they finally get together is definitely not too far off now :) Hope you'll stay with me for that, and it'd be great if I got to hear from you again. Did you enjoy Asia, by the way?  
  
Queen of Zan: Snape is not your favourite character and you still like my fic so much? That sure makes me feel good... And did reading this at least make you like him a tiny little bit more? I'd be really happy if that were the case – go Snape-mania! Who *is* your fave character, by the way? Anyway, hope you got something to eat and that you cleaned your room properly after you finished reading, because I'd feel all guilty if you didn't. Well, and thank you very much for reviewing; I did spend every free moment writing so that I could give you a quick update, but, unfortunately, there were not many of such moments. Stupid school :(  
  
An Anti-Sheep Cheese Muffin (*very* interesting nickname, by the way): Thank you so much for your kind words, but I'm sure there are quite a few fics out there that are way better than mine. As is Rowling's work; I'll never ever even get close to what she's done. But yeah, I do my best, so I'm really happy that you find the scenes believable, because that's what I'm aiming at. To answer your questions – yes, she'll get to talk to Snape when she wakes up in the next chapter, and I'll hopefully make it to the get-together part in there as well. And don't worry, Snape is definitely not gay; I was just kidding. As if I'd make him gay ... then I couldn't have any fun with him, could I? Anyway, thank you once more for the wonderful review, and I hope this update was fast enough. Wrath from hell *shudders* ... and a white rabbit *shudders even more*.  
  
XxDarkGoddessxX: Oh, that's such a nice thing of you to say; you don't know how much it pleased me to hear that there's actually some visible improvement in my writing. But I suppose you're right, I might've gained some confidence along the way, and I really didn't have much trouble with putting the battle chapter into words. Also, when I read through the first couple of chapters the other day, I couldn't help but be horrifed at the enormous amount of mistakes I've made in them, which probably shows the improvement more than anything. I think I'll have to go and fix all the errors when I finish the fic. Anyway, thank you sooo much for another encouraging review, and I hope to hear from you again soon! 


	25. Losses and gains II

Chapter 25  
  
Losses and gains II  
  
When, after what seemed like an eternity, Elizabeth finally woke up again, with almost no pain to speak of and feeling extremely refreshed (although a little dizzy), the infirmary was unusually peaceful. Madam Pomfrey wasn't bustling about for once, most of the patients were either sleeping or staring at the ceiling with a look of apathy, and, strangely enough, there were none of the usual chattering visitors crowding around the beds, either, with the only sound (apart from the snoring coming from the bed next to her) Elizabeth was able to register being a quiet murmur of voices coming from somewhere near the door.  
  
'Great,' she thought unhappily. 'Just great. It seems that all I'm supposed to do now is to simply lie back in my little hospital bed, worry about nothing, keep quiet, and busy myself with either staring at the ceiling or attempting to fall asleep again. Well, that's just not good enough! I want something to read, if nothing else! Hermione, where are you when I need you the most?'  
  
Here, Elizabeth's train of thoughts was suddenly broken by the sound of approaching footsteps, with any remaining bits of boredom immediately leaving her mind when she discovered just who the incoming person was.  
  
'Maybe I am in heaven, after all,' she mused, watching none other than Severus Snape making his way towards (she refused to believe her eyes) *her* bed.  
  
Yet, it seemed that it was indeed she whom he had come to see, having come to a standstill by *her* bedside, giving *her* a nod of acknowledgement, and even, although somewhat reluctantly, accepting the chair that *she* had offered him.  
  
With the formalities over and done with, however, a rather uncomfortable silence set in, during which Elizabeth, very much aware of how monstrous all the injuries must make her look in his eyes ('But then again, he had already seen me like this before anyway, so there's really no point in trying to cover myself up'), regarded Snape both anxiously and expectantly, while the Potions master, his eyes set firmly on the glass of water standing on the bedside table, seemed to be deciding on how to begin.  
  
"You might be wondering why I am here, Miss Woodhouse," he said finally, his gaze now meeting Elizabeth's. The girl held her breath in quiet anticipation. "Well ... strange as it may seem, I have come to thank you..." (it seemed to take an enormous amount of effort for him to finish the sentence) "...for saving my life."  
  
Elizabeth looked at him in disbelief, slowly letting his words sink in. Did she just hear what she thought she did? Was he really ... *thanking* her? For saving his life, no less? But...  
  
"How ... how do you know about that?" she asked as soon as she found her voice again. "I thought you didn't see-"  
  
"The Headmaster told me," said Snape curtly, making it sound almost as though he wished Dumbledore had kept his sightings to himself. "*He* was the one who saw it all happen."  
  
"Oh," said Elizabeth, and then, not really knowing what had possessed her to even think of such a question, let alone ask it, added: "And I suppose he also told you to come and thank me, didn't he?"  
  
Needless to say, she instantly regretted her rash words, and the poisonous (but, unless Elizabeth's eyes had deceived her, also slightly hurt) look Snape sent her way only caused the enormous wave of self-loathing that had immediately filled her mind to gain in intensity.  
  
She opened her mouth in an attempt to produce some sort of awkward apology, but Snape spoke first.  
  
"Would it make any difference if he did?" he asked testily.  
  
"No, I suppose not," would've surely been the appropriate answer in this situation, but, for reasons unknown, the words that left Elizabeth's mouth in the end sounded suspiciously like: "All the difference." She really felt like slapping herself. Did she always have to be so damn sincere? She wasn't under Veritaserum, after all, which meant she *could* theoretically come up with some plausible half-lie if the moment really asked for it, but no, she had to-  
  
"And what exactly do you mean by that, Miss Woodhouse?" inquired Snape, now sounding mildly interested.  
  
Elizabeth looked at her hands. "Nothing. Please forget it, Professor." There. That was certainly better.  
  
Snape eyed her thoughtfully for a few moments, but, to Elizabeth's relief, didn't press the subject any further. Instead he said: "Tell me, Miss Woodhouse, why *did* you throw yourself so unwisely into the path of the curse that was aimed at me? Surely you must have realized that you could never produce the charm to protect you from its effects in time?"  
  
"Well, seems like I *haven't* realized it," retorted Elizabeth, seriously considering whether it wouldn't have been better if he had stuck to the previous subject after all. Why was he asking her such a question, anyway? What was he getting at? "I thought I'd manage."  
  
Snape, however, didn't seem to believe a word of what she was saying. "Oh, come now, Miss Woodhouse," he said softly. "I had the chance to examine your combat skills on more than one occasion, and I daresay your judgement seemed perfectly fine to me."  
  
"Well, maybe I wasn't thinking clearly, then," suggested Elizabeth, trying and failing to determine whether Snape had meant his last words as a compliment or not. "All I knew was that I had to prevent that curse from hitting you no matter what. I would've done the same for anybody had they been in your place," she added hastily, hoping she hadn't given up too much as it was.  
  
"Yes, but you shouldn't have done it for me," said Snape stiffly. "My life isn't worth you risking yours."  
  
Elizabeth couldn't believe what she was hearing. Did he really think so little of himself? "That's a horrible thing to say, sir," she said reprovingly. "Your life is as good as anybody else's."  
  
Snape shook his head. "That is exactly where you are wrong, Miss Woodhouse, seeing you know nothing of my past. Which is just as well," he added as an afterthought.  
  
"I know more than you think, sir," smiled Elizabeth, "and still I stand by what I said."  
  
Snape sat up a little straighter in his chair, his eyes narrowing. "And what exactly is it that you know, Miss Woodhouse?" he asked quietly.  
  
'That sounded almost as though he were expecting me to start blackmailing him,' thought Elizabeth amusedly, taking a moment to decide whether to tell him pretty much everything she had come to learn of his life, or whether she'd better leave some of the more touchy subjects out; in the end she settled for the former.  
  
"Well," she began slowly, relishing the feeling of having the upper-hand for once, "for one thing, I know just how badly you were treated while still a student here, especially by the Marauders. I mean, they almost killed you, didn't they?" She paused, perceiving Snape's eyes flash menacingly at the mere memory. Obviously, even after all these years, he still hadn't managed to get over it. She pretended not to have noticed, however, and quickly went on: "Secondly, I know you have joined the Death Eaters at one stage, but I also know that you have eventually come to realize your mistake, and, at great personal risk, became a spy for the side of the Light. You have also accepted Dumbledore's offer to teach Potions here at Hogwarts, even though it was really the Defence Against the Dark Arts position you were after. And ... that's about it, I'd say."  
  
She cast a sheepish glance in Snape's direction in order to determine whether her words had affected him in any way, but the Potions master seemed lost in thought, his expression as unreadable as ever. It was only some time later that he finally spoke.  
  
"You are no doubt well informed, Miss Woodhouse," he said cooly and, with the air of someone who already knows the answer beforehand, added: "Miss Granger's doing, I presume?"  
  
Elizabeth chuckled. "Partly, yes. But I also learned a lot from my grandmother." She threw Snape a knowing look. "You used to know my grandmother, didn't you, sir?"  
  
Now, was it just her imagination or did Snape really look a little uncomfortable when he answered in the affirmative? Elizabeth, eager to confirm her theory no matter what, felt like beating herself into a pulp after realizing just how very inappropriate her next question must have seemed. Unfortunately, though, it was too late to take her words back, and so...  
  
"And did you know that she suspects you of having a crush on her back in your schooldays? I was always wondering whether she was right..."  
  
Unsurprisingly, the look Snape sent her was truly murderous. "I believe that is hardly any business of yours, Miss Woodhouse," he said coldly, getting to his feet. "Now, if you'll excuse me – I believe you have another visit." And without another word, he swiftly set off towards the door, his black robes billowing behind him.  
  
Elizabeth closed her eyes in exasperation. Now she'd done it! There weren't many chances of him coming back to talk to her after getting asked stupid questions like that, were there? Then again, she still couldn't believe that he had actually come to visit her (and what's more – to *thank* her) in the first place, and then even stayed on for a short chat, during which he had, for the first time in her life, treated her not as a student, but as the human being that she really was. Shouldn't that be enough to keep her happy? Why did she always have to wish for more than she could get?  
  
She had no time to dissect her feelings any further, however, for, as Snape had forewarned her, there were more people who had come to pay her a visit. They were, of course, none other than Hermione and Neville, while Jane seemed to have got stuck at one of the beds near the door, which, Elizabeth presumed, was where her boyfriend, Justin Finch-Fletchley, lay.  
  
"Hi, Elizabeth," said Hermione, tiredly sinking down into the seat Snape had vacated only a few moments earlier. Neville claimed the empty chair next to her. "Feeling better? I must say we were somewhat reluctant to leave you the last time we came to visit you; you didn't look well at all."  
  
"Well, I think I'm all right now," Elizabeth assured her. "Madam Pomfrey gave me some sort of potion, I fell asleep, and when I woke up again, the pain was gone."  
  
"Thank god," sighed Hermione, clearly relieved. "Anyway, what did Snape want with you? I didn't like his expression at all when he brushed past us on his way towards the door. He looked ... kind of upset, I suppose. Or maybe angry. Or disappointed. Or perhaps all of those ... I don't know; it was really hard to tell."  
  
"Well, I suppose he had every reason to feel that way," muttered Elizabeth, proceeding to give her friends a quick summary of her recent conversation with the Potions master, including its awkward end.  
  
When she had finished, Hermione, her face acquiring its old, know-it-all look, only nodded understandingly and said: "Yes, well, I don't think I need to tell you that asking him about the crush thing wasn't a particularly bright idea, but otherwise it didn't seem to go too bad, did it? I mean, he actually spoke to you; he even thanked you, which, in my opinion, must have been terribly difficult for him, seeing he's used to taking care of himself and not having others there to protect him ... and then, of course, there was that supposed hurt look he gave you after you'd asked him whether it was Dumbledore who had sent him to thank you ... *that* especially might be something to go by in our attempt to determine what his feelings towards you most likely are."  
  
Elizabeth frowned. "I don't see how. To me it was just another moment where I got carried away and said something I shouldn't have."  
  
"Maybe, and maybe not. Personally I think it proved that he's not as indifferent when it comes to your opinion of him as he'd like us all to believe. And what's more, I have a feeling that even if Dumbledore *had* told him to go and thank you, it was only saying something he had already decided to do anyway."  
  
Elizabeth looked doubtful. "You really think so?"  
  
"Yes," said Hermione positively, "as a matter of fact I do. And he chose a very good time to do it, too ... stealing away from the Great Hall while everybody was celebrating Voldemort's defeat to ensure that there'd be no visitors around ... very clever. Speaking of which, I almost forgot to tell you about the whole ceremony thing Dumbledore's decided to organize today..."  
  
But Elizabeth soon found that nor the description of Dumbledore's tribute to the dead, nor the incredible party that had broken out afterwards were of any particular interest to her, and she slowly let her own thoughts take over.  
  
Was Hermione right about Snape? Did he really care about her opinion of him? Would he have come to thank her even if Dumbledore hadn't told him to? Would he come to visit her again?  
  
'Maybe to the first three, definitely not to the last one,' she thought sadly. 'But that's what I get for not keeping my big mouth shut. I really should think more about what I say or don't say next time. But since there won't be a next time, it doesn't really matter that much any more, does it?'  
  
Choosing to abandon her depressive thoughts before she'd get too far, Elizabeth willed herself to at least *try* to listen to Hermione's excited account of the evening's events, simply to keep her mind occupied.  
  
"...and you know what?" the Gryffindor was saying. "Dumbledore said that they're going to move Hagrid to St Mungo's for the time being. There's currently a research going on concentrating on the victims of a Dementor's kiss, so maybe there's still some hope left for him, after all."  
  
"That's great, Hermione," said Elizabeth, trying to sound enthusiastic despite the fact that Hagrid was the last thing on her mind at that moment. "Anyway, did Dumbledore also say anything about classes resuming any time soon?"  
  
Hermione shook her head. "No. I think it'll probably take quite some time before he manages to find suitable replacements for all the teachers who've perished during the battle, and I suppose he's also waiting for all the excitement to die down a little before he lets the younger students return from their homes. There are reporters all over the place, you see, which would probably make it somewhat difficult to run the classes without interruption."  
  
"Reporters?" asked Elizabeth, puzzled. "I haven't seen any yet."  
  
"Well, that's because Madam Pomfrey's put heavy charms on the infirmary door to prevent them from getting in. She thinks it would disturb the patients, and I really can't help but agree with her."  
  
But Elizabeth never got the chance to express her own opinion on the matter, for at that moment, said Madam Pomfrey suddenly appeared by her bedside and uncompromisingly shooed both of her friends away, claiming that it was, once again, bedtime.  
  
Hermione, however, had one more statement to make before leaving Elizabeth solely in the comapany of the elderly mediwitch. "Err, about the crush-on- your-grandmother issue – something tells me that most likely he *did* actually have a thing for her. He could've just as well answered 'no' to your question instead of 'it's none of your business', couldn't he?" She gave her a barely recognizable wink. "Think about it."  
  
***  
  
Following Hermione's suggestion to the fullest extent, 'thinking about it' was exactly what Elizabeth did do, soon coming to the conclusion that the Gryffindor had, in all probability, been right. She would never know for sure though, seeing she wasn't suicidal enough to bring the subject up again in Snape's presence – something she craved for more than anything in the world right now, with not even her friends' frequent visits and the enormous pile of books, including 'The Book of Expert Potions for Expert Brewers', Hermione had brought her being able to change that fact. But as almost four days had passed since the Potions master's last appearance, she was slowly giving up even the last remains of hope on his ever coming to visit her again, and consequently doing her best, although with little success, to find some pleasure in reading. Therefore imagine her surprise (and shock) when, later that day, she happened to raise her eyes from the book she was reading only to see the very man she had been thinking about so intensely lately standing by her bedside, holding a small stack of books in his arms and eyeing her thoughtfully.  
  
"Good day, Professor," she said as soon as she'd regained her composure, quickly shutting her book and placing it on the bedside table. "Please sit down."  
  
Snape obeyed, proceeding, as always, straight to the point. "As you might have heard, Miss Woodhouse, the Headmaster is in desperate need of replacements for some of our deceased colleagues. Therefore, he has sent me to ask you whether you would be willing to accept the position of a Potions teacher ... after you are released from the hospital wing, of course. You'd get all the necessary tuition until then, and therefore would no longer need to spend the usual two years as a teacher's aide. There'd be no use in continuing your classes, either, seeing the Headmaster's chosen to cancel all exams, including the NEWTs, this year." Needless to say, Snape looked disgusted at the very thought. "You have two days to decide, unless, of course, you can give me an answer straight away."  
  
Elizabeth felt like her brain was about to explode from an information overload. She'd have to take this slowly, one thing after another. Firstly, Snape had not come of his own accord. That was not exactly positive, but then again, what did she expect? Secondly, judging by his cold tone, he was probably still slightly angry with her for her impertinent question concerning his crush on her grandmother. Therefore, she'd have to sort that out before she'd say or do anything else.  
  
"I will do my best to give you my answer today, Professor," she said calmly, "but first of all I'd like to apologize; it was not my place to ask you such a personal question last time, and I promise it won't happen again." Snape looked a little surprised by her statement, but didn't say anything, which, seeing it was probably the closest to forgiveness she would ever get from him, Elizabeth took as a cue to continue. "Then I would like to ask – how come Dumbledore's asking me to teach *Potions*, of all things?" Her voice nearly failed her when she added: "Does ... does it mean that you're leaving?"  
  
She stopped herself just in time from letting out a huge sigh of relief when Snape shook his head. "No, Miss Woodhouse. I was merely given another position."  
  
Elizabeth took a pretty safe guess. "Defence Against the Dark Arts?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Oh, that's great, sir," said Elizabeth cordially. "I mean, it was about time for you to get the job, wasn't it? You've been asking for it for ages, after all. Although I must say I don't really see why; Potions is definitely the more interesting subject out of the two."  
  
"You think so, Miss Woodhouse?" Snape asked with a smirk. "Well, I suppose that for you it might be. But I have always believed that, after spending so many years in the company of Dark wizards, and therefore learning to predict their every move quite accurately, my experience would be of better use in the Defence Against the Dark Arts area. For, despite what some of my former colleagues might have thought, Defence Against the Dark Arts is most certainly *not* something that can be mastered only with the help of a textbook – it is an extremely complex subject which requires a wide variety of skills, with at least a basic understanding of the way a Dark wizard's mind works definitely being one of them."  
  
"That's what Mrs Figg told us too," said Elizabeth thoughtfully. "And she also didn't use textbooks if she could help it."  
  
A shadow passed over Snape's pale face. "Mrs Figg," he said slowly, "was an exceptional teacher. Her death had been a great loss for all of us."  
  
He fell silent, and Elizabeth was suddenly sure that apart from Dumbledore, Mrs Figg was probably the only person at Hogwarts Snape had considered a friend. No wonder her death had been such a blow for him. Feeling the need to change the subject as soon as possible, she asked: "Sir, if it's not too personal, why did Dumbledore wait until now to give you the job? I mean, he must have had a pretty good reason for it if he preferred even somebody like Lockhart to you."  
  
Snape pursed his lips together at the mere mention of Lockhart's name; obviously Dumbledore's choice to give the job to such a poor excuse for a wizard had hurt the Potions master's pride more than anything. For a while, Elizabeth was convinced he wouldn't even react to the question she had given him, and therefore was more than happy to be eventually proved wrong.  
  
"The answer to that is very simple, Miss Woodhouse," he said dryly. "He didn't trust me ... at least not enough to let me hold such a responsible position. I believe he felt that if I returned to the Dark Arts too soon, I would fall victim to them once again."  
  
"That makes the Dark Arts comparable to alcohol or drugs, doesn't it?" mused Elizabeth. "Still, what had made Dumbledore decide that your probation is finally over?"  
  
Snape gave her a challenging look. "Surely it is not so hard to figure out, Miss Woodhouse?" he asked. "I trust Miss Granger has already acquainted you with all the important features of the 'Fulgur Albus'?"  
  
"Yes," confirmed Elizabeth, "but I don't see... Oh, I know! The fact that you have been able to perform the white lightning along with the others was the last bit of proof Dumbledore needed to be entirely sure that there was indeed no more darkness left in you. Otherwise, the spell wouldn't have worked and Voldemort-" (Elizabeth noticed that even now, when the Dark Lord had been killed, Snape couldn't help but flinch at the mention of his name) "-would still be alive. Is that right, sir?"  
  
Snape looked satisfied. "Yes, Miss Woodhouse. Now, if you don't mind, I think it is time we returned to the original purpose of my visit, which is the Headmaster's offer to give you a job. So if you've got any further questions concerning that..."  
  
Elizabeth didn't have to think long. "Yes, sir. Why did Dumbledore pick me? Surely there must be a whole bunch of people who are more qualified for the job than I am, so I don't really see why..." She trailed off, giving Snape an expectant look.  
  
The Potions master sighed. "You might be surprised, Miss Woodhouse, but there are really only a few individuals who would fulfill the requirements for the job, none of whom have agreed to accept the offer, unfortunately."  
  
"Oh, I see. Have you tried asking Hermione?"  
  
"Yes, Miss Woodhouse. She declined."  
  
"Did she?" asked Elizabeth absently. "Well, I suppose she thought it better to pursue the originally planned Healer career, after all." She paused to think. Was there any reason for her to mull over the offer any further? Hadn't she already decided on becoming a teacher as it was? She looked at Snape, who was once again watching her thoughtfully, and came to an immediate conclusion. "I ... I think I'll do it, sir. I presume *you* are going to be the one tutoring me?"  
  
"Yes," confirmed Snape impassively, but Elizabeth couldn't help but feel that there was something in his voice ... something... Could he really think that she'd change her mind after that particular answer? That the vision of *him* teaching her would put her off? Well, if that was the case, then maybe it would be a good idea to prove him wrong...  
  
"All right," she said cheerfully. "When do we begin?"  
  
Snape looked at her as if she had finally lost it (thus definitely confirming her previous suspicion and making her, not without a certain degree of frustration, wonder whether he'd ever realize that while others might hate him, she most certainly didn't), but eventually said: "Tomorrow. I will be here shortly after dinner. Until then-" he put the stack of books he had brought with him on the already overflowing bedside table "-I want you to read these." He tapped the pile with his index finger, then rose from his chair. "Needless to say, it would help considerably if you could also reproduce what you have read. Now, unless you have any more questions- "  
  
Elizabeth, her brain feverishly processing what was being asked of her, quickly glanced up. "Yes, there's actually still something I'd like to know," she said firmly, slightly hurt by the cold impersonal tone Snape had suddenly resorted to. "How often will you be coming to teach me?"  
  
Snape was beginning to look irritated. "Every day," he said testily.  
  
Elizabeth couldn't believe her ears. Would she really get to see him so often? "Even on the weekends?" she asked timidly.  
  
"Miss Woodhouse," sighed Snape, evidently resigning on getting away with another short answer, "contrary to what you might think, you cannot turn into a teacher in a matter of hours. It is something that takes time – days and days of endless studies and tutoring by another teacher, and even then you will be only partly prepared for what will come to meet you in the classroom. Therefore the answer to your question is yes – even on the weekends."  
  
Elizabeth simply nodded and smiled – a sad but grateful smile that closely reflected the impact that his words had had upon her. "Thank you, sir," she said quietly.  
  
Snape looked at her uncomprehendingly. "I beg your pardon?"  
  
"I said thank you," repeated Elizabeth solemnly. "For giving up your weekends, for being such a wonderful teacher, for managing to teach me so much already, for ... for everything."  
  
Now, where on earth did *that* come from? It was all true, of course, but would Snape interpret her words the way he was meant to? Apparently not, judging from the odd, somewhat surprised look he had given her, but he quickly recovered and, with a curt "Good day, Miss Woodhouse," gracefully spun around and set off for the exit, leaving Elizabeth to ponder over how seemingly impossible it was to tear down that unbelievably solid wall he had managed to put up around him. He had all but fled the hospital wing, after all.  
  
As promised, he was back the next day, however, with a whole lot of tricky questions for her to answer, a lecture on what to expect from the students and how to handle whatever it is they might come up with, and, inevitably, also another dose of books for her to read – something she was hoping to leave out this time, having had enough trouble stuffing her brain with the enormous amount of information contained in the volumes he had left with her the day before. Her memory had never been exactly great, after all (as the OWLs had proved more than sufficiently), and she knew it only too well. Fortunately, though, she was still perfectly capable of coming up with a good idea or two, and as such had managed to think of asking Hermione for some of the memory boosting potion which, while originally developed for Neville's incredible forgetfulness, was now used widely all over the school whenever the exam period threatened to get too close. And although the Gryffindor had never succeeded in making its effects permanent, the one month duration she had eventually ended up with was, in everyone's opinion, still better than nothing. Elizabeth's memory had indeed improved quite drastically, causing the girl to answer all of Snape's questions concerning her daily reading with relative ease, and that was all that mattered to her.  
  
A/N: I know I'm horrible for keeping you all waiting for so long, but, as I've said last time, I don't have much time for writing these days. And when I do, it still doesn't mean that I get to write something, because I usually write on my brother's computer, and when he feels like playing games on it, I have to let him. Furthermore, this chapter is incredibly difficult to write, which means I sometimes spend as much as two hours pondering over one paragraph.  
  
Well, I have also promised to finish this chapter the next time I update, but seeing that I know for a fact that it's still going to take me ages to get done (it's just getting longer and longer!), I thought I'd give you something to read for the time being. I've already got about four more pages written, though.  
  
Anyway, thank you so much for all the lovely reviews, as well for your patience, and I hope this chapter didn't disappoint you. Cheers!  
  
The Evil Cup of Tea: That's cool you haven't decided to give up on your stories; I'm really looking forward to reading more of your 'ultimate HP parody' :) I'm glad you liked the half-chapter thing; looks like it was actually only a third of a chapter, after all. I'm beginning to wonder whether this chapter will ever end. This part is even longer than the last one, so I hope you won't have any trouble reading it in one go :) Character development? Oh, well, I'm glad you see it that way, because there's more of it in this chapter, but at least it concerns Snape. I feel really sorry for you because of the asthma and all; is there any chance of it getting better? Or is it just on and off, with not much you can do about it? Anyway, I hope that at least the infection leaves you alone soon, thank you for another wonderful review (one of your top three fave fics, you say? I'm flattered!), and I'm looking forward to hearing from you again soon!  
  
ALittleBitOfDarkness: *shrinks back in fear* All right, all right, here's the next chapter, just don't hurt me, OK? I know it took a long time, and I also know it's *still* not finished, but I'm really doing what I can... You really got me laughing with your comments about Snape ... I wouldn't mind him in boxers, either, but remember – he doesn't wear boxers ... he wears underpants :( Come to think of it, I wouldn't mind him even if he was fully dressed. Or even completely naked ... um, OK, I'd better stop there :) Yeah, even though I don't really like Hagrid all that much, I also felt like crying while writing that passage. Maybe there's still some hope for him, though. Anyway, thank you very very much for the amusing review, and I hope to hear from you again!  
  
Queen Of Zan: Well, I'm glad to hear that you didn't starve to death, and that your room is nice and tidy :) Gee you really do like almost everyone from the books! As for me, I wouldn't really mind if there were no other characters as long as Snape was in there :) I would be OK with going to school if I didn't have a fic to write, but as it is, I'd much rather stay at home. If only I had at least one day off during the week! Well, I'm really glad to know that I've been able to get you to like Snape a little more, and I definitely must go and read that fic of yours sometime. Anyway, thank you for reviewing, and I hope you enjoy this new third-chapter, or whatever it is.  
  
Claudia Rocks: I don't really remember much from Melbourne, unfortunately, as it's been quite some time ago since I've been there, but if my Australia plans work out next year, I might go to the Australian Open. Anyway, yeah, the last chapter wasn't particularly cheerful, so I hope this one's a little better. Thanks for reviewing, and I'd love to hear from you again!  
  
Ilovstationary: I know the last chapter was sad, but I really think that a great victory like that needs some victims. Even Rowling herself said there's be many more deaths in the books before the series is over. Anyway, thanks for reviewing, and I hope you find this chapter a little more cheerful.  
  
An Anti-Sheep Cheese Muffin: Well, I don't think your nickname is weird and far out, but I must admit I don't really get what it means, either (could you explain, please?). It just sounds cool. I'm sorry to have killed many of your fave characters; it's just that I, unfortunately, didn't like them that much. But I've killed some of my faves too – Draco and Lucius, for example. Anyway, I didn't exactly *kill* Hagrid, which means, as Hermione had hinted, that there might still be some hope for him. I'll see what I can do. Well, I'm really really sorry for the slow update; I suppose you'll probably hate me now, but I'm doing my best. Please be nice and don't fry me! But anyway, thank you very much for reviewing, and I hope you liked this chapter even if it took so long to write.  
  
FireValkyrie: Yeah, Pirates is an excellent movie, you just can't help but love Johnny Depp in there. He should've got an Oscar, not just a nomination!!! But everything else in the movie is cool as well, and I'm also very curious about the sequel. Although sequels are usually not as good as the first part, in my opinion. Well, as for this fic, I haven't *exactly* reached the fun stuff yet, but I'm getting close. There are some conversations with Snape in this chapter where he's being civil, so I'd love to know if you think he's still IC. Anyway, thank you so much for reviewing again, and congratulations on that *enormous* amount of reviews! I wish I had so many...  
  
Summner: I'm also glad you're back, and that you enjoyed the battle chapter so much. I loved writing the bit with Draco; I really wanted to show that deep inside he's not such a complete bastard. It's just the way he was brought up. Hee, hee, yes, Elizabeth's stay in the hospital wing is indeed going to be quite interesting. I think it's already clear from this chapter, but the next one will be even better. Well, anyway, I hope that you liked this new update, and that I'll get to hear from you again soon. BTW, I can totally imagine how annoying getting a new computer to work must be; my brother had to reinstall ours only a couple of days ago, and he was going ballistic.  
  
Padfoot's Girl: I'm really sorry for killing off two of your fave characters, but, as you know, I wasn't all that fond of them myself. I killed some of my favourite characters too, though, so I hope that makes up for it at least a little. I'm glad you liked the last chapter; I think you can see now that maybe the six weeks won't be so bad for Elizabeth, after all. You were quite right about Snape coming to visit her :) As for the battle chapter being rushed – I don't know, but I think that the way it's written sort of conveys the battle atmosphere better than if I took it slowly. Battles are confusing, and stuff happens really quickly in them. That's why I put the Draco scene in – to slow it down a little, but otherwise it had to be nice and swift. Anyway, thank you so much for reviewing again, and I hope you enjoy this new update as well.  
  
Coolspot: Thank you; I'm glad you're enjoying the story. I'm sorry the update wasn't as fast as you probably would've liked, but I hope you've stuck around to read it anyway. Thanks again for the review! 


	26. Losses and gains III

Chapter 26

Losses and gains III

Days passed, each new one frightfully similar to the last. Apart from sleeping, eating and other such necessities, Elizabeth seldom resorted to activities that didn't include the words 'reading or being questioned on Potions books' in them, which meant she would often allow herself a short break only once a day – during her friends' visits. And so it was only thanks to them she had learnt that, after being proved wrong once and for all in the matter of Voldemort's comeback, Cornelius Fudge had finally decided to hand in his resignation, with the position of the Minister for Magic eventually passing on to Ron's father, Mr Weasley, who had immediately made use of his newly gained power and awarded Order of Merlin, First Class, to all those who had participated in the defeat of the Dark Lord directly, while everybody else involved in the battle received its Second Class version. The ceremony, where the Minister would actually give out the shiny badges connected with the award, was planned for Christmas. But apart from the fact that Dumbledore had finally allowed the younger students to come back and resume their classes (with Snape being assigned to teach both Defence Against the Dark Arts _and_ Potions for the time being), and also the not-too-surprising news of Jane becoming the new captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, this was about the only interesting piece of information her friends had managed to supply her with since their first two visits, making her feel somewhat excluded from all the usual bustle that dominated the Hogwarts castle. She was by now practically the only one left in the hospital wing, after all.

Strange as it may seem, however, she still considered her stay there to be one of the most wonderful things that had managed to take place in her life so far, and it was all thanks to Snape. There were no words to describe just how much she was looking forward to seeing him every day, and how sad she was to see him go whenever he decided that their little lesson was over. Foolish really, how she used to think that her love for him had already reached its limit, that it couldn't possibly grow any stronger, for it was only a matter of time before she came to discover just how wrong she was. Love _did_ hurt, she knew that now, seeing that even the simple fact of having him sitting so close to her and not being able to reach out and touch him was enough to make her heart bleed.

Try as she might, however, Elizabeth could still see no definite proof of him feeling the same, no matter what her grandmother might have said, but at least he had gradually lost some of his determination to keep strictly to the subject of Potions, mainly because, thanks to Hermione's miraculous memory booster, she was proving to be a much faster learner than either of them had initially hoped, and therefore could afford to broach even something more personal every now and then without the danger of falling behind with her studies. It was usually she who was doing most of the talking in such cases, however, and so while Snape soon knew the details of her life inside out, she still knew almost nothing about him, being too afraid to ask him directly in case he'd consider it a violation of the promise she had made at the beginning of his second visit. But since he had turned out to be an exceptional listener, who actually seemed genuinely interested in what she was saying, Elizabeth was quite happy to leave things as they were for the time being, and simply continue being the one who gave out all the personal information rather than the one who received it. It was only later that her curiosity finally got the better of her, and so, having just finished recounting one particularly unpleasant episode from her own pre-Hogwarts days, she took a deep breath and asked: "Sir, what was _your_ childhood like?"

Snape threw her a suspicious look. "Why do you want to know, Miss Woodhouse?"

Elizabeth shrugged. "I just thought it would be interesting to learn something about the home life of a wizarding family," she said innocently. "And since all my friends are Muggle-born, I thought I'd ask you. You _are_ pure-blooded, aren't you, sir?"

"Yes, Miss Woodhouse," replied Snape with a smirk. "I am indeed pure-blooded. As is Mr Longbottom, I believe. Or do you not count him as your friend?"

Elizabeth sighed. Gods, that man was insufferable! But it was her fault, she should have thought of Neville before attempting that little lie of hers. Now she'd better quickly think of something nice and witty to help her clean up the mess she had so foolishly managed to get herself into...

"I _do_ count 'Mr Longbottom' as a friend," she said finally, "only, as far as I know, he doesn't come from a typical family, having been raised by his grandmother instead of his parents. Besides, he had only discovered that he wasn't a Squib shortly before he came to Hogwarts." She smiled. "You, on the other hand, could probably do magic even before you learned how to walk."

For a short moment, Snape looked as though he would smile too, but he caught himself just in time. "I cannot deny that, Miss Woodhouse," he said, still looking somewhat amused. "But what makes you think that _my_ family, unlike Mr Longbottom's, had indeed been a complete one I simply cannot imagine."

"I just assumed..."

"I see. And I suppose you also expected my life at home to be a picture of happiness, didn't you?"

Elizabeth didn't see the trap hidden in that question until it was far too late. "No, Professor," she said firmly. "I'd say your childhood must have been far from ideal."

"Which brings us back to my original question," said Snape smugly. "Why are you so keen on my telling you something about it?"

Elizabeth had had enough. "Because I've told you so much about myself already, and would therefore think it'd be only fair if I got to hear something about you for a change."

"You do not know what you are asking for, Miss Woodhouse," said Snape stiffly. "I assure you that nothing concerning my life is pleasant to listen to."

Elizabeth let out a sigh of exasperation, not really sure how much more of this she could take. "Professor," she said in a voice of forced calm, letting several seconds pass before she continued, "I am not a child any more, so please stop treating me like one. I am also not as weak as I might look. I promise I won't faint whenever the details of your narrative get a little more ... delicate, let's say. And I most certainly won't pity you, if _that's_ what you're afraid of. I will simply listen, that is all."

Snape still didn't look entirely convinced, but eventually gave in and, with a quiet "Very well, then," began to tell his tale. And so, with the help of a few encouraging questions, Elizabeth finally got to learn a little more about the man she had come to love so much in the course of the past couple of years, and was now slowly beginning to see exactly why he had turned into the cold and bitter person that he was today.

He, as she had expected, was an only child, born to a certain Mrs Priscilla Snape in the year 1960. Her husband, a very rich and powerful man from an old wizarding family, was a thoroughly unpleasant man with a propensity to despotism, who didn't care for his wife at all and saw his son merely as an heir to his enormous fortune. He tended to treat him as an adult from a very early age, expecting him to meet his excessively high demands at all times, and was therefore severely disappointed whenever Snape failed to fulfill his wishes to his satisfaction. He didn't hesitate to even beat him up every now and then, and whenever his wife tried to put an end to it, she received her fair share of the beating as well. She never gave up on her attempts to protect her son, however, even if they mostly ended up in a fierce but pointless argument with her husband, after which she would usually lock herself in her room and cry for several hours. Gradually developing a phobia of some sort, she slowly ceased leaving her room altogether as the time went by, sneaking out only to steal herself something to eat, or to check on her son whenever she was certain that her husband had gone away. World-weary and ill, it was only a matter of time before she eventually passed away.

Snape was only seven at the time of his mother's death, but he grieved for her all the same, realizing only too well what he had lost in her. He was now all alone ... all alone with his somewhat unbalanced father who was by now satisfied with almost nothing Snape did, which consequently led to beatings even more severe and frequent than before. All in all, Snape's life had turned into pure hell. That's why his father's decision to send him to Hogwarts a year early (clearly only to finally get rid of him) had come as something of a rescue for him, and he immediately started looking forward to whatever was awaiting him at his new home, seeing he was sure it could never be even half as bad as the life he was leading now. Determined to finally get the recognition his father had never given him, he plunged headfirst into the schoolbooks he had bought himself at Diagon Alley, and by the time the day to leave for Hogwarts had finally arrived, he knew them all by heart.

His enthusiasm didn't last long, however, for the one person he had managed to run into as soon as he boarded the Hogwarts Express for the first time was none other than his future greatest enemy: a tousled, bespectacled boy called James Potter. For reasons unknown, they took a dislike against each other almost immediately, and their relationship had been like that of a cat and a mouse ever since. But while Snape usually tried to avoid his enemy (as well as the small gang he had eventually managed to surround himself with) as best he could, preferring to concentrate on his studies instead, Potter seemed to pick fights with him whenever he had the chance, thus earning both of them a record amount of detentions every week.

Snape, however, wasn't put off, and continued studying harder than ever. His exam results were virtually unbeatable, making him by far one of the best students Hogwarts has ever had. But while he continued achieving top grades in pretty much everything he chose to study, his favourite subjects had always been Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts. There was not much he didn't know when it came to those two particular areas, especially the latter where he had read not only everything concerning defence, but a huge amount of books dealing with the Dark Arts themselves as well. He soon became completely obsessed with them, and his determination to learn as much about them as he possibly could only grew when his father, having once caught him snooping around in the Dark Arts section of the private library they had at home, strictly forbid him to ever touch those books again, claiming they would bring him anything but good. The infamous Whomping Willow incident, during which Snape had nearly lost his life thanks to a foolish joke played on him by the Marauders, followed soon after, and when even Dumbledore, whom he had until then considered as one of the few people who were on his side, failed to stand up for him at that time, Snape, at first completely devastated, eventually decided to try his luck elsewhere.

Ever since he had first started school the Slytherin House had been full of gossip about some Dark wizard who was determined to take over the world and eventually clear it of all Muggles, but he had never paid it much attention. Now, however, it was quite a different story. He listened eagerly to any mention of the man whose name not even the bravest dared to speak, and it didn't take long before he found a group of Slytherins who were not only just as crazy about the Dark Arts as he was, but they were also hoping to join the Dark wizard's ranks shortly after their graduation from Hogwarts. Amazed by his incredible knowledge and skills, they soon accepted him into their midst, and so, for the first time in his life, Snape finally felt like he actually belonged somewhere. That's why he didn't hesitate at all when his so-called friends asked him to follow the same path they had chosen, having already decided to join the Dark Lord quite some time ago anyway, and he gladly endured the many gruesome tests that all the would-be Death Eaters had to undergo at the same time they did.

No matter how much Elizabeth implored, however, Snape refused to tell her anything whatsoever about the exact nature of those tests, and he was also absolutely uncompromising when it came to giving her any details of the tasks he was made to fulfill during his Death Eater days. Defeated, the Ravenclaw was eventually forced to change the subject to something a little bit less touchy.

"So ... what about your father?" she tried, determined to get some answers at least here. "Did he ever find out what you've done?"

For some reason, Snape took a little longer than usual to reply, but eventually said: "I suppose he might have had a suspicion ... but nothing more, I believe. And before you ask, Miss Woodhouse – yes, he is already dead," he added with a smirk.

Elizabeth couldn't help but smile; Snape had really guessed the question that was on the tip of her tongue quite correctly. She didn't let it disconcert her, however, managing to come up with a new question almost instantly. "All right, so ... what had happened to him?"

"The Dark Lord ordered to have him killed," said Snape coolly, sounding as though he were talking about the weather. Elizabeth, however, couldn't help but notice just the tiniest hint of emotion in his voice, almost as though his father's death hadn't affected him nearly as little as he was trying to make her believe. "Allegedly, he started meddling in his affairs more than he could allow."

"Oh," was the only reaction Elizabeth managed to come up with, unable to think of anything else to say. Maybe it was time to change the subject again, seeing that Snape was apparently unwilling to discuss the current one any further. And to tell the truth, she didn't really blame him, because although he might have wished his father nothing but the worst for all that he's had to endure from him, a death that was somehow connected with Voldemort was too cruel for anybody to experience, least of all one's father. For however unpleasant the man might have been, Snape was, after all, still his son. "Was that the reason for your eventual transition to the side of the Light?" she asked finally, immediately giving herself a mental slap when she realized that she hadn't really changed the subject much at all.

Snape, however, seemed quite happy to answer, albeit only after another momentary hesitation. Was there perhaps something he wasn't telling her?

"It was one of the reasons, yes. There were, of course, countless others – some more significant and some less – but all of them have somehow contributed to my eventual decision to leave the Dark Lord's services and confess everything to Dumbledore, who, as I'm sure you already know, gave me a choice similar to that of Mr Longbottom."

"And you chose the spying."

"Naturally."

"Naturally?" queried Elizabeth, puzzled. "But ... if you had to pretend that you were still a Death Eater, not much had changed for you, had it? I mean, you couldn't suddenly stop participating in all the Dark raids and stuff-"

"It is obvious that you have never been to Azkaban, Miss Woodhouse," Snape cut in unexpectedly. "Because if you have, I am sure you would know that even serving under the Dark Lord can often prove much more pleasant than spending as short a time as a couple of days in one of its many cells. For that is exactly how long I have stayed in the wizard prison myself, before my trial, and I would certainly never like to repeat that ordeal again." He paused for a moment, apparently to rid his mind of the memory, before continuing. "Furthermore, you probably have not realized that the Dark Lord's fall had taken place not more than a couple of months after my confession, which means that I only had to keep up my pretence for that short period of time. For once the Dark Lord had been dispatched, many of the Death Eaters began to care mainly about saving their own skin, and as such took no particular interest in continuing their previous activities. Therefore I could easily stop participating in 'all the Dark raids and stuff', as you had so interestingly put it, simply because there were none to attend. Even if that had not been the case, however, I would have maintained my position none the less. For although you obviously think otherwise, Miss Woodhouse, one thing concerning my further activities as a Dark Lord's servant most certainly _had_ changed. In my mind, I no longer worked _for_ the Dark Lord ... I worked _against_ him. There was a slight chance that my efforts could eventually result in if not his direct downfall, then at least in some visible disruption of his plans. And that, Miss Woodhouse, was what had, albeit only seemingly, kept me in his ranks even after I had joined the side of the Light, despite the fact that I despised every minute of it."

"And yet, when Voldemort had reappeared at the end of my fourth year, you agreed to do it again," remarked Elizabeth admiringly and, seeing that besides a barely recognizable nod she didn't receive any other reaction, added: "But ... wasn't that way too risky? I heard that at your trial Dumbledore had stood up for you and told everyone that you were now on his side, so I can't see any reason why Voldemort would trust you after that. Wasn't it complete suicide going back to him?"

Snape shook his head. "Not necessarily. I had the trust of Lucius Malfoy, one of the Dark Lord's most faithful servants, who had always believed that my supposed transition to Dumbledore's side had been nothing more than an attempt to gain some information about Hogwarts for future use, and through him I had eventually won back the trust of even the Dark Lord himself."

"Lucius Malfoy," said Elizabeth thoughtfully. "Did he think of you as a friend?"

"Lucius Malfoy didn't think of anyone as a friend," said Snape darkly. "He did, however, take an immediate liking to me as soon as he first saw me ... perhaps he thought that later on I could be of use to him. And so, particularly in the beginning, he often helped me with my tasks, and even put in a word for me whenever the Dark Lord considered punishing me for an unsatisfactorily executed operation. He also, although for reasons we can only guess, went as far as coming to the parent/teacher evening last year and informing me that I no longer had his support, and that he would do everything in his power to make sure that my betrayal would not remain unpunished."

Elizabeth frowned – Lucius Malfoy sure seemed like a very strange person. No wonder that Draco had been so unhappy with a father like that... Getting this far, Elizabeth almost didn't resist the temptation to ask Snape about the boy as well, but since that would probably mean admitting that she had sneaked into his office in order to eavesdrop, she eventually decided to push Draco out of her mind and change the subject instead.

"Sir," she said glibly, "it had just occurred to me – what had become of the Dark Mark after Voldemort had been killed? Did it disappear?"

Snape's gaze momentarily strayed to his left forearm. "Yes," he replied, sounding – if that were possible – almost happy. "There is merely a small scar left now."

"Can I see?"

Snape sighed and reluctantly pulled up the sleeve of his robes, revealing an ugly grey spot on his skin, almost like a scorch mark.

Elizabeth regarded it with interest, then, after a while, glanced back up and asked: "How exactly was it used? Did it hurt when Voldemort was summoning you?"

"At first – no," said Snape, seizing the opportunity to pull his sleeve back down. "It was only when a Death Eater did not respond to the Dark Lord's call that the Mark began to burn more and more, until the person usually could not stand the pain any longer and, whether he wanted to or not, Apparated at the Dark Lord's side."

"But you didn't," Elizabeth pointed out. "There have been many Death Eater meetings after Neville had betrayed you, but you have managed to withstand the pain and not go to a single one. That's ... admirable."

"You are exaggerating, Miss Woodhouse," said Snape dismissively. "For your information – the pain doesn't last long ... only about an hour or so. In addition, at Hogwarts I could not have Dissaparated even if I had wanted to, so obviously that made it even easier to resist."

"Maybe, but you still have my admiration," stated Elizabeth firmly. "I, for example, would have most likely left the Hogwarts grounds and Disapparated straight away, despite the fact that a little pain usually causes me no trouble at all."

Snape eyed her thoughtfully for a while, then said: "Well, I am sure that a short training would soon fix that, Miss Woodhouse." He got to his feet. "Now, I believe that by this point we have already come to discuss much more than merely the details of my childhood, so I think it is time to end the conversation. Good day."

And with a swirl of his black robes, he swiftly departed, leaving Elizabeth to wonder whether she was just being stupid, or whether he had indeed meant the training comment as a compliment.

Elizabeth would never have thought that she would pray for her stay in the infirmary to somehow turn out to last forever, but she sure found herself harbouring that very wish now, having realized only too well that as soon as she'd leave her little hospital bed (a step that was, unfortunately, only three short days away now, no matter how much she tried to talk herself into thinking otherwise) and return to leading a normal life (however different from her previous one it might turn out to be), her current conversations with Snape would in all probability become history. It was almost certain that she would only get to see him during mealtimes and at staff meetings, after all, where even an exchange of a few words with him should be considered a great success.

'What do I care if all my wounds have now been reduced to mere scars?' she thought gloomily. 'What do I care if even those scars will be gone in a couple of days? One scar will always remain, incurable by even the most complex of potions – the scar on my heart. Snape will never love me, I know that now. He might, at the most, consider me as something of a friend, which is, of course, more than I had ever hoped for, but if he could only... No, I won't think about it. I just won't. I will simply try to make the best of those last three days, and see what happens then.'

And with that resolution, Elizabeth reached for the MP3 player she had asked Jane to bring her from her dormitory several days ago (having nearly exhausted even Snape's daily supply of books by then, and therefore needing something else to busy herself with), firmly stuffed the earphones into her ears, closed her eyes, and then simply let herself get lost in the music that her favourite CD, made up of a huge mixture of carefully selected songs, provided. It couldn't, of course, ever fully compensate for the complete oblivion that only her Animagus form could possibly bring her, but since Madam Pomfrey had made it quite clear that any such folly would severely violate the healing process, she was left to settle for the next best thing.

She might have eventually drifted off to sleep, she wasn't quite sure, but the fact was that when she opened her eyes again, Snape was sitting in his usual chair by her bed, watching her with amusement in his eyes.

"Awake at last, Miss Woodhouse?" he asked with a smirk.

"I ... yes, sir," Elizabeth managed to blurt out, quickly pulling the earphones out of her ears and pressing the 'pause' button. "Good day, sir."

Snape didn't respond, but watched her actions with curiosity – something Elizabeth found rather odd, seeing he had, despite its prominent position on the bedside table, never spared her MP3 player as much as a second glance before.

"You probably don't know what this is, do you, sir?" she asked tentatively, pointing to the device now lying on her covers.

Snape smirked again. "No, Miss Woodhouse, indeed I don't. Something of Muggle origin, I presume?"

Elizabeth nodded. "That's right. It's called an MP3 player, and it's used for listening to music. Something like a radio, let's say, if you know what that is."

"I have heard of the term, yes. However, I was under the impression that such devices do not work at Hogwarts."

"That's true," smiled Elizabeth. "But my grandmother has put some kind of spell on it to eliminate that little inconvenience." She smiled again, a rather wicked smile this time, as a sudden idea forced its way into her mind. "Would you like to have a listen, sir?" she asked, trying not to sound too eager.

Snape threw the MP3 player a disdainful look, then firmly shook his head. "No, Miss Woodhouse, I believe I will give it a miss, thank you."

Elizabeth, however, wouldn't have it. "Please, sir," she begged. "How can you possibly say 'no' when you haven't even tried it?"

With an ostentatious sigh and another, this time somewhat suspicious, look in the MP3 player's direction, Snape finally resigned. "Well, if you insist..."

Elizabeth had to do her best not to burst out laughing, finding even the mere thought of what Snape had just agreed to do absolutely hilarious. Not to mention the song she was going to play him... As it was, however, she only gave the Potions master a small smile and cheerfully handed him the earphones, explaining what he should do with them as she did so. Then, at last, she pressed the 'play' button ... and almost didn't manage to hold her laughter in this time as she imagined just what Snape was most likely to think of Marilyn Manson's _This Is the New Shit_ – the one song she had previously paused.

Unsurprisingly, the Potions master's expression said it all: Elizabeth strongly doubted that even Joshua and Jamie's potions had ever caused him to look more disgusted, and so it didn't take long before the earphones eventually found their way back into her lap, accompanied by a rather cold "I believe I have heard enough, Miss Woodhouse."

"What, don't you like Marilyn Manson?" asked Elizabeth, pretending to look offended.

"I presume you mean the madman I have just been unfortunate enough to listen to?"

Elizabeth snickered. "The very one."

"Well, in that case the answer is no, Miss Woodhouse, I most certainly do _not_ like _Marilyn Manson_," said Snape, once again succeeding in making a mere name sound like a piece of filth. "But each to their own."

"All right, so what kind of music _do_ you like, sir?" asked Elizabeth, the curiosity in her voice only too evident.

Snape's answer, however, turned out to be deeply disappointing, albeit not exactly surprising. "None," he said, sounding as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

"None?" repeated Elizabeth, just to make sure. It was indeed hard to picture Snape grading papers while listening to his favourite tunes, but then again, coming to terms with the fact that someone could actually live without any music at all was probably even harder. "Don't you ever listen to _anything_?"

Snape looked rather amused by her incredulity. "Strange as it may seem to you, Miss Woodhouse – no, I do not. I find it a complete waste of time."

'You do, now, do you?' thought Elizabeth with a smirk. 'Well, then I suppose it's really no wonder that you're so uptight, Professor, because I'm sure that a bit of music would definitely help you loosen up a little. Which is why a bit of music is exactly what you'll get right now.'

"Well, maybe you just haven't come across anything worth listening to so far," she said determinedly. "But if you give me one more chance, I might be able to change that. I think I've got just the song-"

"No, Miss Woodhouse, I believe I have become acquainted with your taste in music quite well already," Snape cut in quickly, and would've most likely gone on to change the subject if Elizabeth hadn't pushed the earphones back into his hands with a look of such pleading that even a rock would've probably found it difficult to stay firm, let alone an ordinary human being. And since, despite popular opinion, Snape was as human as anyone else, only he usually did his best not to show it as much, he reluctantly took the offered earphones and once again planted them into his ears, patiently waiting for the Ravenclaw to play him whatever song she had picked for him this time. And, judging by the somewhat curious look he gave her as soon as she pressed the 'play' button, _Let It Be_ by The Beatles probably hadn't been such a bad choice.

Elizabeth, however, wasn't as pleased with her success as she might've been. She couldn't help but feel that there was definitely something wrong with Snape today, seeing it usually required quite a bit more persuasion than a simple 'please' to convince him to do something he evidently didn't want to, and she didn't like it. It was all too easy, and she suddenly had the distinct impression that he was obeying her wishes only to hold something off ... something far from pleasant, no doubt.

Unfortunately for her, she didn't have to wait long to find out exactly what that 'something' was, for at that moment Snape, having actually listened to the whole song this time, silently (although with a small nod of appreciation) handed her back the earphones and rose to leave.

"There will be no need to continue your lessons with me from now on, Miss Woodhouse," he said, sounding as though nothing could please him more. "I have already told you everything you need to know as far as theory is concerned, the rest is up to you. There is only one more book I would advise you to read before you begin your career as a Potions teacher; I have left it on your bedside table. Now, if you will-"

"No, please wait, sir," pleaded Elizabeth, doing her best to control her temper. Why was Snape suddenly treating her like some toy that he could simply throw away when he was done playing with it? Had she been completely mistaken when she believed that he thought of her as a friend? How come he seemed to be acting almost kindly one minute, but was back to his usual cold self the next? "Even though our lessons are over, you can still come for a short chat, can't you?"

"I would hardly think that you would find my company desirable, Miss Woodhouse," said Snape testily, his expression distinctly spelling a silent 'and vice versa'. "Why don't you ask your friends to pay you a visit instead?"

He didn't say it, but the hidden message was once again only too clear.

'So that I would finally stop wasting your precious time?' Elizabeth finished inwardly, now controlling herself only with great difficulty. 'Is that what you meant to say? That all I am for you is a waste of time?'

She eventually managed to pull herself together, however, and, pretending she had missed any hidden messages altogether, said: "Because I want to talk to _you_, sir."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Indeed? And why is that, Miss Woodhouse?"

Something in Elizabeth's mind snapped. "Because ... because I love you," she choked out, suddenly not caring whether Snape knew or not at all. Seeing that his dislike for her had apparently never completely disappeared, despite his confusingly decent behaviour for the last month or so, she might just as well tell him everything. "_That_ was the reason why I was being so unnaturally polite ... _that_ was why I asked you for a dance ... and the Valentine ... that was also from me."

She met Snape's gaze with defiance, determined to face whatever was to come. And that was when she saw it: hidden among a palette of other emotions (with surprise and disbelief being probably the most prominent) in the Potions master's obsidian eyes was the same undescribable look she had noticed on the night of her detention ... only now, thanks to her grandmother, she finally had a name for it.

Love.

It was only there for a short moment, before Snape's face quickly regained its usual air of coldness and indifference (and, in this case, also disgust), but Elizabeth was certain she hadn't imagined it. Or had she?

"You are evidently still unwell, Miss Woodhouse," said Snape impassively, looking as though her condition didn't bother him one bit. "I shall make sure that Madam Pomfrey gives you a Sleeping Draught at once." And before Elizabeth could put up any sort of protest, he was gone.

There was no time to ponder over what had happened, however, for, in compliance with Snape's words, Madam Pomfrey had indeed arrived almost immediately, and was now persistently attempting to force the aforementioned Sleeping Draught down Elizabeth's throat.

"But I'm perfectly all right, Madam Pomfrey!" protested the Ravenclaw, pushing the goblet away with disgust.

"Nonsense," said the mediwitch sternly. "Professor Snape has made it clear that some sleep would do you nothing but good."

"Well, Professor Snape is wrong!" yelled Elizabeth. "He just doesn't want to hear what I have to say to him, that's all. He didn't even come back with you, did he? He ran-"

"That is quite enough, Miss Woodhouse," said Madam Pomfrey uncompromisingly. "You are evidently distraught. Now, I suggest you take this potion-" she held it out in front of her "-without any further objections, or I shall have to consider keeping you here for an extra day or two."

Elizabeth was suddenly a picture of calmness, obediently accepting the offered goblet and downing its contents without another word.

"That's a good girl," said Madam Pomfrey delightedly and, taking the empty container from Elizabeth's hands, got up to leave.

Elizabeth, however, had decided to try one more thing. "Madam Pomfrey?" she asked timidly. "Do you think it would be possible to let me go a little earlier? I'm really feeling just fine, so I'm sure it wouldn't hurt if-"

"We will see," said Madam Pomfrey indefinitely. "For now, I would advise you to just enjoy a good night's rest and not let anything worry you." And with that, the mediwitch disappeared out of sight.

Elizabeth, on the other hand, fell back on her pillows, finally free to give her latest conversation with Snape some proper thought. She had no idea what to make of it, and she was slowly beginning to doubt that the supposed look of love in Snape's eyes hadn't been just a product of her vivid imagination. He had been so cold to her, after all, and she simply couldn't believe that a man in love would ever act that way. Or was it possible that it had all been nothing but simple pretence, just like her grandmother had suggested? But if so, why? Why would he suddenly be trying to make her believe that she meant nothing more to him than a splinter stuck in his thumb when they had been having a civil conversation about music only a few moments before? Not to mention the several weeks of civil conversations that preceded; did he really think she would forget? No, that was absurd. Snape probably despised her, just like he always had, and the reaction that followed her confession of love for him only proved it. Why would he pretend to look so horribly uninterested if he loved her too? Why would he run? Why on earth did she allow to get her hopes up only to have all that she had come to believe destroyed in the course of not more than a few short minutes?

Getting this far, Elizabeth simply couldn't keep her emotions bottled up any longer, and her eyes slowly filled with tears. She didn't care, and so she let them fall, pretending that all her love for Snape was going with them.

She didn't remember falling asleep, but she evidently must have, for the next thing she knew was that she had been jerked awake by the unmistakable sound of somebody's rapidly approaching footsteps, and that it was already morning. For a moment she naively hoped that her unexpected visitor might be Snape, but she soon saw that it was only Hermione.

"Morning," she mumbled sleepily as soon as her friend was within earshot, slowly lifting herself into a sitting position.

"Hi, Elizabeth," said Hermione, plopping down into one of the chairs next to Elizabeth's bed and breathing heavily. It was obvious that she had been running. "Sorry if I woke you, but we've just had Potions and I thought that since I have a free period now, I'd stop by and ask you..." She paused to take several deep breaths, then continued: "You see, Snape was absolutely horrible today ... worse than he's been in months ... taking points for no reason at all ... and, well, I thought that maybe you'd know why. It's just that I noticed his gaze wander over to your empty seat once or twice, so..." she trailed off, apparently out of breath again.

Elizabeth sighed, forcing back the tears that were threatening to fill her eyes once more. She wouldn't cry. Tears wouldn't solve anything. Hermione, on the other hand, was known for her ability to solve practically any kind of problem, and as such might provide some useful advice. She would tell her what had happened, and hope for the best.

Luckily for her, Hermione didn't fail.

"But Elizabeth!" she exclaimed as soon as the blond witch finished her rather gloomy narrative. "It's all so simple!"

"Please, Hermione, I'm in no mood for jokes."

"Neither am I," the Gryffindor assured her. "Can't you see, Elizabeth? He loves you! Or do you really need more clues than you already have?"

"As far as I know, I don't have any," said Elizabeth grumpily.

"Well, that's probably because you're looking at it all from the wrong point of view. If you take the fact that Snape loves you as a starting point, everything else will suddenly make sense."

"Oh, really? So why was he being nice to me for a whole month, and then suddenly started acting as though I had been nothing more than a waste of time for him all along?"

"I'd say that's perfectly understandable, actually," said Hermione, sounding more and more like her old know-it-all self. "After he had discovered that not even treating you like a piece of dirt would help him get rid of his feelings, he simply couldn't stand hurting you any longer, and so when he was suddenly forced to spend so much time with you every day, he thought that he might just as well start treating you like a normal person for once. I suppose it worked for a while, but then it started getting out of hand. You were becoming too close, and he couldn't allow that. That's why he decided to do what he did in the end – to make you believe that he didn't care for you at all so that you would leave him alone. Remember how you told me that he had even agreed to listen to your MP3 player before he finally got to saying what he had wanted to say all along? That's how much effect you have on him, Elizabeth, and I'm sure he must've suffered terribly when he eventually told you what he had to. And it's obvious that he's still suffering now."

For a short moment, Elizabeth was completely lost for words, her brain feverishly processing what Hermione had just said. True, now that everything had been properly explained to her, it really did make sense, and yet...

"But ... why did he turn me down even after he had learned that I feel the same for him as he does for me?" she peeped finally, unsuccessfully trying to do something about her violently shaking hands. "Wasn't that the main obstacle? Or do you think there are more? That he feels he's too old for me, for example?"

"Yes, Elizabeth, I'm afraid that's exactly the case," sighed Hermione. "Knowing him, he probably also thinks that he doesn't deserve to be happy with someone like you, and I wouldn't rule out even the possibility that he might still consider you as one of his students."

"But I'm not!" cried Elizabeth. "I will become a teacher in only two days!"

"_I_ am aware of that," smiled Hermione. "But _he_ apparently isn't, so maybe it would be a good idea to actually go and tell him."

Elizabeth looked at her hands, which were now trembling even more than before. "Yes, I know I probably should," she said quietly, more to herself than to her friend. "But do you think it'll do any good? He'll probably refuse to listen to me completely."

Hermione gave her a challenging look. "Well, you won't know until you try, will you?"

Elizabeth's last two days in the hospital wing turned out to be possibly the worst two days of her entire life. On one hand, she wanted her stay to come to an end as quickly as possible so that she could finally try and get the whole business with Snape over and done with, but on the other she was so afraid of his refusal that suddenly even the option of a lifelong confinement didn't seem so completely unappealing any more. One way or another, however, the fact was that she was scared stiff, and the nearer the time of her release from the infirmary drew, the more terrified she became. That's why she nearly suffered a nervous breakdown when Madam Pomfrey suddenly informed her that instead of the originally planned morning, she had, after giving her earlier request some thought, eventually decided to let her go some twelve hours earlier, having felt that maybe a free evening with her friends before her very first day of teaching was just what she needed to make her healing process complete. Needless to say, Elizabeth couldn't concentrate on practically anything from then on, even though she knew it would probably be wise to at least flip through the book (_Anticipating Explosions_) Snape had left with her during his last visit, but since even looking at it was enough to remind her of the unpleasant task ahead, she eventually gave up on it and settled instead for the simple and soothing activity of playing around with her make-up set, all the while mentally preparing herself for what was to come.

Several hours later it was indeed time to go, although Elizabeth was still feeling far from ready. She got up all the same, however, thanked Madam Pomfrey for her infinite patience with her, and then slowly began to make her way up to Ravenclaw Tower to dispose of all the things she had managed to accumulate next to her hospital bed during the past six weeks. She would've given anything for a quick chat with Jane before her eventual calvary down to the dungeons, but when she finally reached their dormitory (which, seeing that all of their former roommates had perished in battle, only the two of them now shared), it was empty, as was, except for a few first years playing chess by the fireplace, the Ravenclaw common room. Sighing, Elizabeth resignedly threw her stuff down on her bed, allowed herself a hasty look in the mirror, and then, at last, shakily set off to meet her fate.

When she eventually arrived in the coldness and darkness that made up the dungeons, all was quiet. She had no idea where Snape usually spent his evenings – he might even be patrolling the corridors, for all she knew – but she decided to try his office first, seeing it was probably the only place, apart from the classroom, where she could talk to him in private. Coming to a standstill in front of the heavy door, she raised a trembling hand and knocked, half-hoping that she'd get no answer.

No such luck: Snape's surly "Enter" was as clear as ever, causing Elizabeth's knees to almost give way and her already racing heart to speed up even more. She quickly recovered, however, and, with a deep breath, pushed open the door.

She didn't have to look twice for the man she had come to see; he was sitting at his desk only a few feet away from her, grading papers. He glanced up upon her entrance, however, and his eyes revealed a momentary flicker of surprise and emotion before he quickly arranged his face into a mask of pure irritation.

"Yes?" he asked, his voice at its coldest.

Elizabeth, having expected something like this, pretended to ignore it. Instead she crossed over to Snape's desk and, even though she most certainly hadn't been offered a seat, made herself comfortable in the chair opposite his own, her gaze never leaving the Professor's face as she did so.

"Sir, we need to talk," she stated determinedly.

Snape's eyes narrowed. "You and I have _nothing_ to talk about, Miss Woodhouse," he snapped. "I distinctly remember telling you that our private lessons have come to an end, and any other business of yours does not concern me. So if you would kindly remove yourself from my office and stop wasting my time, I would be most grateful."

"And I would be most grateful if you kindly stopped calling me by my last name from now on," retorted Elizabeth, willing herself to stay calm. She wouldn't let him get to her so easily, she knew she'd lose everything if she did. Which, of course, was the last thing she wanted right now. "We're almost colleagues, after all, so I think Elizabeth would do just fine." Snape threw her a look full of contempt, but didn't say anything, and so Elizabeth quickly went on: "Now, although you obviously think otherwise, I believe that there really is something we should discuss..." She took a shaky breath, then looked Snape right in the eye. "Our feelings for each other."

Snape, however, seemed to be prepared for this. "_Miss Woodhouse_," he sneered, "I have no idea what you are trying to achieve by this pathetic charade of yours, but rest assured that-"

"No, sir, please listen," interrupted Elizabeth, raising her voice just a bit. "I've already told you what I feel for you, and, even though you might not have said it, I know you feel the same. You're acting as though you hate me, but don't you think you should stop now? Why torture yourself any longer? Why torture me? Why not stop all the pretences and let us be happy? I don't care if you're some twenty years older than me, I don't care what you've done in the past. I love you as you are, however imperfect you might be, and I'm prepared to fight for my love, too. And if you're the one who I have to fight against, so be it."

This time, Snape didn't react immediately. Instead he regarded her in a very unnerving fashion, almost like a snake deciding when to strike, making it absolutely impossible to tell what he was thinking. Did she manage to get her message across? Would it have the desired effect?

"You have no chance, Miss Woodhouse," he said finally, his voice, unlike Elizabeth's, not much more than a whisper now. "Whatever it is that you might _feel_-" (he practically spat the word) "-for me, and I very much doubt that it is what you claim it to be, I shall most certainly not encourage it. I do not know what had led you to believe that I might perhaps share those ... feelings of yours, nor do I care, but I can assure you that such a presumption is absolutely preposterous. You know nothing of my feelings, Miss Woodhouse, and I doubt you ever will. Now-"

But Elizabeth had heard enough; she knew she had to say something before it was far too late. "That is not true, sir, and you know it as well as I do," she said firmly. "You said you don't care how I came to the conclusion that you feel the same as I do – and, believe me, what I feel for you really _is_ love, even though you obviously find it somewhat difficult to accept – but I'll tell you anyway. For one thing, there was your strange behaviour at my detention just before the summer holidays. I won't bore you with my assumptions about why exactly you had told me to leave so suddenly, as I'm sure you know what you had felt much better than I do; let's just say that my presence was beginning to make you rather uncomfortable. Then, of course, there were our daily private lessons in the hospital wing. Why did you bother to lead all those subject-unrelated conversations with me, when in the end you all but told me that all along those visits had been nothing more than a waste of time for you? Weren't you perhaps afraid that if you didn't end it all the way you did, it would eventually get out of hand?" She paused, gathering strength for what she hoped to be the final blow. One never knew with Snape, after all. "But – even if none of this had happened, there was always the one thing that had caused me to suspect that something peculiar was going on in the first place ... your eyes. I couldn't quite name the emotion that I had seen in them at first, but now I know only too well what it was. It was love, sir."

She finished, and was now looking at Snape with unconcealed expectancy. Snape glared back at her, but his expression was, as usual, unfathomable.

"And has it never occurred to you, Miss Woodhouse, that perhaps your supposed observations had been nothing more than a product of your evidently wild imagination?" he asked at last, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "That you merely saw what you wished to see?"

Elizabeth sighed; she should've known that Snape wouldn't give in so easily. She really didn't want it to come to this, but it seemed that she had no choice. "No, as a matter of fact it hasn't," she said scathingly. "But maybe if I heard you say that you don't love me _directly_, rather than cleverly avoiding it like you've been doing so far, I would actually begin to consider it a possibility. All you have to do is look into my eyes and tell me that I mean absolutely nothing to you. In that case I promise to go away and never bother you again."

Snape looked at her sharply, and, even though his expression still gave nothing away, Elizabeth could virtually feel the alarm that her words had evoked. There was evidently a huge battle going on in his mind ... a battle that would decide everything. Was it possible that he would actually lie to her? She was, of course, convinced that he would not, but...

"And what difference would my doing such a thing make, Miss Woodhouse?" he asked suddenly, having evidently reached a conclusion of some kind at last. The irritated tone he used, however, clearly indicated that he definitely wasn't too happy about it. "Do you not realize that a relationship between the two of us is strictly out of the question? Or have you decided to simply ignore all the potential consequences, naively hoping that I would do the same?"

Despite these harsh words, Elizabeth couldn't help but smile. Snape hadn't managed to tell her what she had asked him to, after all, which could only mean one thing – that it wasn't true. She didn't need any more proof than that to convince her once and for all that he did, in fact, love her, and while she knew that there was still a long way ahead of her, at least she had something definite to build on now, which immediately caused her mind to regain some of its lost optimism.

"What consequences?" she asked airily. "You mean like what would happen if somebody actually found out about us?"

Snape looked scandalized at the mere thought. "For instance, yes."

"Well, then I suppose it would be a good idea to make sure that nobody _does_ find out, wouldn't it?" said Elizabeth sweetly. "You've already proved that you can pretend to hate me quite convincingly, so if you simply maintain that act in public, nobody will suspect a thing. I, of course, will keep up my own disguise as well."

"I am not entirely certain that you would be able to, Miss Woodhouse," said Snape doubtfully. "You are not trained to hide your emotions like I am. Sooner or later you would give yourself away, and-"

"Oh, you really think so?" asked Elizabeth fiercely. "Have you already forgotten that it was _you_ who had slipped, and not me? If I hadn't _told_ you how I feel about you, you would _never_ have found out! Speaking of which, why is it so important for you to keep the relationship a secret? Who cares if the whole school knows? Let me remind you that I am _not_ your student any more, if that's what's bothering you, and, as far as I know, a relationship between two teachers is perfectly tolerable."

"Until you receive your graduation certificate, you are still a student of this school, Miss Woodhouse," said Snape tensely, "even if you do not attend your classes any longer."

"Then we can just hide our relationship until graduation," said Elizabeth confidently.

Snape threw her an almost pitying look. "It is not that simple, Miss Woodhouse," he said wearily. "I assure you that there are more hindrances to this entire matter than you can possibly imagine."

"Well, perhaps if you actually _told_ me what these hindrances are, I might be able to come up with a way to eliminate them," retorted Elizabeth.

Snape let out a sigh of exasperation, evidently reluctant to do as he was asked. Elizabeth's unwavering stare, however, full of eagerness and expectation, eventually caused him to give in.

"The age difference," he said curtly.

Elizabeth resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "I've already told you that I don't care about that in the least," she said firmly. "True, it might appear rather striking now, but what will it matter in some fifty years or so? I doubt anybody will give it as much as a second thought _then_."

Judging by the momentary flicker of amusement in Snape's eyes, her words had obviously had a positive effect. Maybe the man had even realized that there was actually a great deal of sense in what she was saying, it was hard to tell, mainly because his face had regained its usual serious expression almost immediately, causing Elizabeth to wonder whether it hadn't, in fact, been there all along. Upon closer inspection, however, she discovered that 'serious' probably wasn't the right word to describe Snape's current appearance. To her great disconcertion, he suddenly looked almost ... haunted – something she didn't like at all. And rightly so.

"There will be no 'then', Miss Woodhouse," he said quietly. "I have done nothing to deserve a happy life. The mistakes I have made in the past are-"

"_Please_, Professor, we've been over this already," said Elizabeth hotly. "I know you have probably done some horrible things while in Voldemort's services, even though you strictly refused to tell me about them, but I think you've done enough to atone for each and every one of them at least twice. You've continually put your life at risk by spying on Voldemort, you've managed to put up with a bunch of insufferable children for more than fifteen years, you've completely shut yourself off from the outside world, thus depriving your life of everything worth living for ... don't you think the time has come for you to stop dwelling on what had been, and to actually start concentrating on what lies ahead of you once again? I would help you as best I can, of course, but you'd have to let me. If you would only co-operate a little more..."

"I do not want your help, Miss Woodhouse," said Snape darkly. "And I am certain that were you to know the exact nature of all the atrocious deeds I have come to accomplish during my Death Eater days, you would never have made such an inane offer to begin with. You would have run away in fright and disgust, determined to carefully avoid all unnecessary contact with me in the future."

A wave of pity rushed through Elizabeth's mind at those words; she simply couldn't believe how one person could possibly manage to harbour as much self-loathing as she had just seen Snape display. Well, there was only one thing left for her to do.

"How can you be so sure?" she asked incredulously. "I've already told you that I'm not as weak as you might think, so who knows – I might turn out to fail your expectations altogether, and actually succeed in doing the exact opposite of what you had just predicted. But since we won't know unless we try, I suggest you stop being so secretive for once and actually – just this one time – tell me all about those 'atrocious deeds' of yours, leaving nothing out and concentrating on even the tiniest of details. Then we can continue our present conversation."

Snape, however, determinedly shook his head. "No, Miss Woodhouse. I have no right to put you through something as direful as that, and, were you wise, you would not even ask me to."

Elizabeth knew she couldn't take much more of this. Convincing Snape to finally give in was something she wished for more than anything in the world, but she was slowly running out of arguments. What could she possibly say to make him talk?

"I might not be wise," she said slowly, as though weighing every word, "but I do have some common sense. And my common sense is telling me that unless you agree to do what I'm asking of you, our little problem will most likely never be solved. And since the only reason why I have come here was to have that very problem taken care of, I will not leave this room until we do just that. So, unless you decide to change your mind, I suggest you prepare yourself for a long night, Professor."

Snape reacted by throwing her one of his patented death glares, but Elizabeth could see that inwardly he was already giving her words a great amount of thought. She could only hope that he would reach some kind of conclusion soon, seeing the silence, as well as the incredible tension that ominously hung in the air, were slowly beginning to drive her mad. Just when she thought she wouldn't be able to stand it all any longer, however, Snape stood up.

"Wait here," he ordered and, leaving Elizabeth no time to ask what was going on, silently disappeared through the office door and into the corridor outside.

Fifteen minutes later, however, he was back, and although Elizabeth had nearly died of anxiety during the time of his absence, all her troubled thoughts were quickly overcome by curiosity as she closely examined the strange object that he had brought with him. It was a shallow stone basin, bearing some kind of inscriptions around the edge and containing an odd, translucent substance that kept swirling round and round while giving off a faint, silvery light.

"Do you know what this is, Miss Woodhouse?" Snape asked as he carefully placed the entrancing basin on his desk and sat down.

Elizabeth merely shook her head.

"It is called a Pensieve," Snape enlightened her. "People generally use it for sorting out their thoughts and memories whenever they feel that their mind is too overloaded to manage on its own." He smirked, obviously finding such an activity utterly contemptible. "I, however, have decided to employ the Pensieve for an entirely different reason. You have asked me to tell you about my Death Eater days, which I will not, but I am certain that you will find a journey through my memories just as satisfying."

For once, Elizabeth was lost for words, and as such could only watch as Snape suddenly drew out his wand and placed its tip near his temple. When, a few seconds later, he finally took the wand away, a silver strand was clinging to it, which he quickly deposited into the Pensieve. This process was repeated several times, until Snape eventually shoved the Pensieve under Elizabeth's nose and told her to look in. Wondering what on earth she was getting herself into, the Ravenclaw gingerly obeyed.

At first she could see nothing but the silvery substance, but then the vapour cleared and she was suddenly looking, as if from somewhere up in the sky, at some crepuscular forest clearing where a small group of people, generally dressed in Death Eater robes, stood gathered around a tall man clad all in black. He looked a little different than when Elizabeth had watched him fighting Snape during the battle for Hogwarts, but there was certainly no mistaking him for anyone else – it was none other than Lord Voldemort.

"I believe we have got some newcomers today," he hissed, and the Death Eaters immediately parted to reveal four uncertain-looking young men, one of whom Elizabeth instantly recognized as Snape. He, as well as his three companions, was wearing only plain black robes, and Elizabeth was suddenly certain that what she was looking at was in all probability the gruesome entrance ceremony Snape had refused to tell her about earlier.

"So, you have decided to join me?" Voldemort asked, sounding both pleased and amused at the same time.

"Yes, my Lord," said the four men together.

"Well," drawled Voldemort, "then I'm sure you are all prepared for a little ... test."

Elizabeth didn't like the sound of that at all, and, judging by the worried looks the four would-be Death Eaters shared, it definitely looked as though she wasn't the only one. Voldemort, however, took no notice of it; instead he turned to Snape and, with a nasty smile, asked him to state his name.

"Severus Snape, my Lord," said Snape calmly, raising his eyes to meet the Dark Lord's intense gaze without the slightest hint of hesitation.

"Severus, you say?" repeated Voldemort thoughtfully, his unpleasant smile growing even wider. And then, all of a sudden, a wand appeared in his hand, pointed straight at Snape's chest, and a moment later, Snape collapsed to the ground, his body twitching with pain. Voldemort looked on in amusement, the echo of his Cruciatus curse still ringing through the air.

Elizabeth, who was suffering almost as much as Snape just by watching him, felt like shutting her eyes and never opening them again, but somehow she couldn't. And so, despite her somewhat blurry vision, she simply continued staring at the horrible scene before her until, after what seemed like hours to her, Voldemort finally decided he'd had enough and, with a wave of his wand, lazily ended the curse. Curiously enough, Snape, albeit rather shakily, picked himself up from the ground almost immediately, looking very much as though he found the Cruciatus curse about as painful as a mosquito bite.

"Very _good_, Severus," cooed Voldemort, eyeing his would-be recruit with obvious approval. "I see that you can withstand pain well." And, turning towards the other three novices, he added: "Let us only hope that your friends will prove to be equally resistant. '_Crucio_'!"

This time it was the man on Snape's left who found himself writhing with pain, but neither he, nor his two companions were able to control themselves even half as well as Snape had done, and as such could be heard screaming and begging for mercy only a couple of seconds after Voldemort had begun to torture them. Unsurprisingly, this only prolonged their suffering, leaving them all barely alive by the time it was finally over.

"I am disappointed," declared Voldemort moodily, regarding the three bodies at his feet with distaste. "I shall, however, give you a second chance." He smiled his nasty smile again, and Elizabeth could only guess what sort of horror he had in mind this time. "True, you might not have shown much worthiness when being tortured yourselves, but perhaps you will find torturing others more to your liking?" And with that, he turned to a small group of Death Eaters who stood somewhat separated from the rest of their comrades, evidently awaiting this particular moment all along. "Bring the Muggles," he barked.

"Yes, master," nodded one of the Death Eaters, and a moment later they all disappeared towards the edge of the clearing. They were back in a matter of seconds, however, each of them dragging the limp form of what appeared to be a member of the same Muggle family. The mother and father were both badly bruised, but their two children, a boy and a girl of about eight, seemed, apart from the fact that they were obviously under the effect of the '_Petrificus Totalus_', quite unharmed.

The Death Eaters dropped their burdens in front of Snape and his friends (who had meanwhile managed, although with great difficulty, to will themselves to stand up) and then stepped back, quietly looking on as Voldemort took the floor once again.

"Your task is easy this time," he drawled. "Torture these filthy Muggles-" he threw the four motionless people lying on the ground a disgusted look "-in any way you please, whether it is with or without magic depends on you. Of course, the longer you keep them alive, the better, but I don't think I really need to tell you that, am I right?"

The four young men all nodded mutely, and Voldemort then assigned each of them the one member of the unfortunate family whom they'd have to torture. Snape ended up with the little girl, and Elizabeth suddenly found herself foolishly hoping that the sight of such a helpless creature might perhaps cause his conscience to finally make itself heard, forcing the man to stop this whole Death Eater nonsense before it was far too late.

He didn't. In fact, he didn't even bat an eyelash as the girl, now relieved of the '_Petrificus Totalus_', started crying for her mother; instead he calmly exposed her to some truly horrific Dark spell and, with a frighteningly disinterested expression on his face, watched her suffer. Then, just when Elizabeth thought that the girl's screams couldn't possibly get any louder, he suddenly changed the spell into a different one, apparently causing some sort of imaginary itching, seeing the girl was now scratching herself so vehemently that in many places she had begun to bleed. Snape evidently didn't care, however, continuing to vary his spells and curses with alarming frequency and not letting even the fact that the girl had eventually fainted put him off. He simply brought her to again, and then carried on as if nothing had happened.

Elizabeth was in a state of shock. She had no idea how the other three men were doing; her eyes were firmly fixed on Snape and the little girl and, no matter how much she tried, she simply couldn't bring herself to look anywhere else. Was she really watching the same man she had fallen in love with? Could he really have changed so much? From this cruel, heartless _being_ into the lonely, indrawn person whom she had come to know and admire? Could every one of his victims have contributed to that?

Apparently not, seeing that when his very first victim, the little girl, eventually passed away, Snape looked almost ... proud of himself, unconcernedly moving on to the next set of tests (mostly concerning the group's combat skills this time) as if her death had meant about as much to him as the death of an annoying insect.

After he had accepted the Dark Mark, however, his memories in the Pensieve suddenly became nothing more than a bunch of blurry images, and that was when Elizabeth began to observe the first changes. True, he still killed, tortured, and even brewed a variety of highly dangerous potions, some of which could've easily blown up an entire house, but even though Elizabeth couldn't see his face, since it was usually hidden behind his Death Eater mask, she could virtually feel the steadily growing reluctancy to accomplish what was being asked of him. Every time, the hesitation before the eventual killing was a little clearer ... every time, the unearthly screams of his tortured victims were cut off a little sooner ... every time...

And then, as unexpectedly as they had appeared, the images suddenly faded away and were replaced instead by another continuous scene, this time set in a dark, mouldy-looking cellar. In contrast to the previous Death Eater meeting, however, here only five people were present: one of them was, of course, none other than Snape, standing in the very centre of the room with his wand pointed at a black-haired wizard who, having evidently just received his fair share of torture, now lay face down on the cold stone floor, bleeding and gasping. Two more Death Eaters, both standing in the background and watching quietly, and an impatient-looking Lord Voldemort completed the scene.

Elizabeth, however, was absolutely perplexed. Of all the murders and tortures he'd accomplished, why on earth did Snape choose to show her this particular one in detail? Who _was_ the man on the floor? Why was he so important?

Well, it didn't take long for her to find out, for at that very moment, the man used his last remains of strength to raise his head from the floor so that he could face his attacker ... and Elizabeth almost died of shock when she suddenly found herself looking into the eyes of ... Snape?

No, it couldn't be. Snape was, after all, standing right above this strange man, pointing his wand straight at his head and willing himself to say the fatal words. Besides, this man was definitely older than Snape. True, his eyes were of the same obsidian colour as Snape's, and the hooked nose, despite the fact that it was evidently broken, also looked familiar, but other than that, there were no similarities to speak of. For one thing, the man's hair, now matted with blood, was much longer than Snape's, although just as greasy. Secondly, his features betrayed a strong, despotic personality, determined to-

Getting this far, Elizabeth suddenly knew exactly who she was looking at, and, truth be told, she was shocked beyond words. Yes, Snape had told her that his father – for that was indeed the mysterious man's identity – had been killed at Voldemort's bidding, but he somehow neglected to tell her that he himself was the one who had performed the deadly curse.

There was no time to dissect this appalling revelation any further, however, for at that moment, Voldemort, obviously tired of the unnecessary protraction, decided to leave his present place by the wall and personally take charge.

"Well? What is taking you so long?" he hissed, eyeing Snape with an air of suspicion as he crossed over to stand by his side. "Finish him off!"

"Of course, my Lord," nodded Snape, his voice slightly muffled by his Death Eater mask but otherwise sounding very much the same as it always did. Elizabeth, however, was quite sure that it was all only simple pretence; Snape's inner feelings were most likely the exact opposite of what he allowed Voldemort to see. Then again, what did it matter when he still did as he was told? It only took two simple words, after all...

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

And that was the end. No more images, no more scenes. She was once again sitting in Snape's office, her eyes were, for reasons unknown, filled with tears, and the man whom she had just seen murder his father was dolefully regarding her from across his desk, looking almost as though he was on the verge of tears himself.

"I hope you are satisfied now, Miss Woodhouse," he said bitterly, getting hold of the Pensieve and placing his memories back inside his head.

Elizabeth didn't reply, seeing as she was too busy sorting out her slightly confused thoughts. It was only natural after all the horrors she'd just seen, after all.

Snape, however, interpreted her silence somewhat differently. "Well?" he demanded. "What are you waiting for? Surely you don't need my permission to leave?"

Wiping the tears from her eyes with a swift gesture, Elizabeth finally decided to grace him with her attention. "No, of course I don't," she confirmed, and then, after a brief pause, slowly added: "Mainly because I'm not leaving."

Snape let out a sigh of exasperation. "Miss Woodhouse, there is no need to be considerate. If you want to leave, which, under the circumstances, would be the wisest thing you could possibly do, just do so. It would be nothing I had not expected."

"I'm not being considerate, sir," said Elizabeth resolutely. "It's true that what I have seen in the Pensieve is definitely nothing to be proud of, but I assure you that I can deal with it. You have realized your mistake, after all, and that's all that matters. In fact, I think you could even say that the experience, no matter how horrible it had been, had made you become a better person ... a person who deserves nothing but love and admiration. Both of which – and more – I'd still be delighted to give you."

The intensity with which Snape was regarding her was truly unnerving. It seemed that while one part of him was craving to accept her offer straight away, another part, unfortunately the stronger one at the moment, was very much against it. That's why the Potions master's eventual reaction didn't turn out to be nearly as surprising as it could've been.

"You say that now, Miss Woodhouse," he said, sounding even more pessimistic than before, "and perhaps you even mean it, but with time you will realize just how foolish your words had been. Even if I were to become somehow ... involved with you, I am certain that it would not take long before you would come to regret it. You would suddenly realize that while you have buried yourself in a thriveless relationship with a man who could easily be your father, all your friends are meanwhile still enjoying their freedom, carelessly making use of all the possibilities that a teenage life has to offer." He gave Elizabeth a deep, searching look, and then added: "I would hardly think that _that_ is what you really want, Miss Woodhouse."

Elizabeth met Snape's gaze with defiance. "Believe it or not, Professor – it is," she declared, making a short pause (mainly to prevent herself from saying anything rash) before continuing. "You seem to be suggesting that I'll eventually get tired of you, but I sincerely doubt that. You might not know it, but I have loved you for almost two years now, and even though most of the time your behaviour towards me had been absolutely horrible, my feelings have never faltered. And, especially if you give me the chance to express them fully, I see no reason why they should do so in the future."

Glancing over at Snape, she saw that he was somewhat stunned by her statement about the duration of her love; obviously he hadn't imagined that he had been the object of her attraction for quite as long as that. She decided to use his silence to her advantage, however, and quickly resumed her monologue, hoping against hope that maybe she would actually manage to say something that would make him change his mind at last.

"You are afraid that I might eventually break up with you and leave you with a broken heart, aren't you, sir?" she asked softly. "Well, I can understand that, but don't you think you're being a little selfish? If you send me away now, you are most likely going to suffer anyway, but in addition you'll be dragging _me_ down as well. Have you thought about that at all? Because, Professor, this is no longer about you alone, this is about _us_. I know you have spent your whole life rejecting everybody who as much as _attempted_ to get close to you, and I know that so far it had worked, but I assure you that this time it's different. Have you realized that _this time_, you're not the only one who's putting their feelings at risk? That there's somebody else doing the same?"

Suddenly appearing somewhat tired, Snape looked at her and nodded. "Yes, Miss Woodhouse, I assure you that I have realized that fact only too well. Which is exactly why I am telling you to give the entire matter up ... for your own good. You are still young, you will recover soon enough. Go and find yourself a proper boyfriend, Miss Woodhouse, and forget about me. It will be better for the both of us."

Elizabeth was close to tears by now; this wasn't going well at all. But she wouldn't give up ... not yet, anyway.

"Better?" she repeated mockingly. "Or simply more comfortable?" And since Snape didn't look like he would even bother to comment that remark, she quickly went on: "Anyway, I'm not interested in finding myself a _proper boyfriend_, as you had so tensely put it. I've never cared about boys my age; I think they're all a bunch of immature idiots. _You_, on the other hand, are everything a girl like me could possibly wish for."

"Indeed?" said Snape sceptically. "And what, pray tell, is it that you would see in me, Miss Woodhouse?"

"You really don't know?" asked Elizabeth, even though she could easily guess the answer beforehand.

"No, Miss Woodhouse, please enlighten me."

Elizabeth paused on. "Well ... it's kind of hard to put into words..." she said slowly, "but I'll try." She gave Snape a thoughtful look, as if searching for inspiration, before continuing. "Firstly, I admire your exceptional intelligence and logical mind; sometimes it's almost scary how you can figure things out. Secondly, I think you have an incredible sense of honour and loyalty, examples of which you have definitely shown on more than one occasion. Thirdly, I'd say that you must be terribly brave, because otherwise you would never have dared to go back to Voldemort so that you could spy on him." She sighed. Telling Snape that she loved him was one thing, but telling him _why_ she loved him was a different matter altogether. But since he had asked for it... "I also love talking to you. True, most people probably wouldn't consider you an entertaining companion, but to me you are like a best friend – I could talk to you for days and days and still not get tired of it. Your voice is absolutely heavenly, too, by the way, even though you probably don't realize it. Well, and lastly ... lastly I find you immensely attractive. Not handsome, because you're not, but there's definitely something about you ... I don't know how to say it... Perhaps it's your slightly mysterious appearance, or the graceful way you move about, or your billowing black robes, or perhaps all of it, I really don't know ... but the point is that I simply can't stop looking at you. Especially your eyes, they're so beautiful..." She gave Snape an apologetic smile. "I know I didn't express it too well, and there are probably quite a lot of things I haven't mentioned, too, but that's all I can think of at the moment..."

Snape, however, apparently seemed to be of the opinion that she had said more than enough, judging by the look of utter disbelief that he was giving her. And not only disbelief, she noticed presently, there was also confusion, surprise, doubt...

And then, without a single word, he suddenly got up from his chair and, in one swift movement, turned away from her, folding his arms across his chest and seemingly abandoning all signs of life as he lost himself in thought. It would've been quite easy to mistake him for a statue at that moment, actually.

Elizabeth watched his rigid figure with hope. Was it possible that not everything had been lost yet? That she had _finally_ managed to knock some sense into him? That, after he would finish sorting his thoughts out, he would actually say 'yes' at last? That he would-

She never got any further with her musings, however, for at that moment, Snape spun around so quickly that she almost fell off her chair in shock.

"This is absurd," he spat, fixing her with an indignant gaze. "I see absolutely no reason why we should continue this conversation any farther; there is nothing more to be said. Once again I am asking you to leave my office, Miss Woodhouse, and this time I expect you to obey."

Elizabeth felt as if somebody had slapped her. So much for her hopes, which Snape, as only he could, had managed to disperse with only a few short sentences. Now she could no longer hold back her tears, and she soon felt them burning her cheeks before they dropped down onto the cold dungeon floor. Cold as the man who lived there.

Shakily, she stood up, unable to think of anything more to say. Could that mean that Snape had been right? That there really _was_ nothing left to be said? That it was all over?

'No!' something in her mind screamed. 'You can't give up now! You're so close! Can't you see that he's ready to break? That the part of him that wants to give in is clearly taking over now? All you have to do is find a name for it and give it a little push!'

And so Elizabeth did. "Nothing more to be said?" she asked quietly, looking almost menacing as she moved over to stand right in front of Snape. "Says who? Says your mind? Well, that's great, but don't you think that sometimes, like now, it would be much better if you actually listened to your _heart_?"

"Miss Woodhouse, I believe I told you to leave," said Snape, but he didn't sound nearly as convincing as before.

"And I told you to use your heart," snapped Elizabeth, her tears now long forgotten. "If you actually have one, that is," she added bitterly.

Snape threw her one of the darkest glares he was capable of, obviously hoping to compel her to go away with the mere power of his gaze, but with no success: Elizabeth firmly stood her ground, glaring right back at him and looking like she wasn't about to leave any time soon. Eventually, with an irritated sigh, Snape was forced to resign.

"If I had used my heart, Miss Woodhouse, I would have been dead long ago," he said testily.

"Well, with the sort of life you're leading, I don't really think it would've made that much of a difference," retorted Elizabeth, immediately giving herself a huge mental slap as she realized what exactly it was that she had said. She had never meant to be so cruel, of course, but since there was obviously no decent way (seeing that '_Obliviate_' definitely did _not_ count as an option) of taking her words back, she could do nothing but grit her teeth and simply hope for the best ... or, better said, for the worst. And perhaps it would also be a good idea to apologize...

Glancing up at Snape, however, all such thoughts quickly left her mind, as from the way he was looking at her it was quite clear that any attempts at an apology would be entirely useless. She had never seen so much reproach in anyone's expression before, and she honestly didn't care to endure the experience again.

To her great surprise, however, the longer she looked into Snape's eyes, the more his gaze softened: slowly, reproach gave way to thoughtfulness, thoughtfulness gave way to ... well, Elizabeth didn't exactly know what, but she was sure that if he continued looking at her that way just a little while longer, she would stop controlling herself and she would...

And then it happened. Without knowing how or why, Elizabeth's arms suddenly found themselves wrapped around Snape's neck and tangled in his hair, while Snape himself tentatively put his own arms around her waist. For a while, they just stood like that, gazing into each other's eyes and simply enjoying the close contact that they had created, before, eventually, they leaned in and, ever so slowly, sought each other's lips.

Elizabeth felt like the whole world had come to a standstill. She knew nothing of her surroundings, she knew nothing of anything; all she was aware of was that kissing Snape was the most wonderful thing she had experienced so far. True, she had already done it hundreds of times in her imagination, but now she knew that she had never even come close to the real thing. If she had to find a comparison, then she would probably say that the kiss was a bit like a wild roller coaster ride – it gave her a feeling of sensation, it caused her stomach to do flip-flops, it left her feeling dizzy at the end, and, of course, it was much too short.

Both slightly out of breath after the passionate frenzy they had just undergone, Elizabeth and Snape once again found themselves staring into each other's – now somewhat glazy – eyes.

"Well, I certainly hope that your demand concerning the use of my heart has now been met, _Elizabeth_," said Snape with a slight smile, absently brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen into his face during the kiss.

Elizabeth gave him a dazzling smile of her own. "Oh, definitely." And then, with a fake pleading look, she added: "By the way, do you think I could also call you by your first name from now on?"

Snape merely nodded, before being uncompromisingly swept into yet another breathtaking kiss.

A/N: If I were Dr Jekyll and Elizabeth was my Mr Hyde, I think my transformation would by now be complete :) Anyway, I apologize for the terribly long time it has taken me to update, but I got stuck with a dialogue and I also had to concentrate on my exams at school for a while. Hopefully the next chapter won't take so long to get out, though.

And for those of you who have found a small mistake in this chapter (Manson's 'This Is the New Shit' was indeed released later than at the time of this story), I know about it, but I can't think of any way to change it, so I'll just leave it as it is. By the way, I am a great fan of Manson, so Snape's opinion of him definitely doesn't match my own :)

Anyway, once again I'd like to thank all of my reviewers; you people are the best!!!

Undead Euro-Trash: Of course you can post my story on your site; I'd be honoured. I still want to do a bit of editing when I finish it, though, so you can either wait for that or post it straight away, whatever you prefer best. You were indeed gushing enough – I was smiling like a maniac after reading your wonderful review, so thank you. I'm really glad that you like the way I write Snape; it takes me ages to figure out what I can or can't make him say, because I really really want him to be IC at all times. As for Elizabeth – it's almost like writing myself, so that's probably what makes her seem real. I'm totally flattered that my fic has brought you into the HP fandom, and I will definitely go to read your story as soon as I have more time. Anyway, thank you once more for the encouraging review, and I hope to hear from you again in the future.

FireValkyrie: Thank you, you're great for being so understanding. And I'm sure you're not really being neglective, either – just write whenever you feel like it, even if it takes you a long time to type (I type with only two fingers, actually, but even so I can be pretty fast if I want to). BTW, I bet you were only kidding about your story being trash, right? :) Why would people send you reviews if it were? Well, anyway, I'm so happy you still think Snape's IC; it wasn't so hard to achieve that in the last chapter, but this one was a complete nightmare. As long as he spoke in short sentences, I was fine, but as soon as I got to the part where he started explaining stuff, I was hopelessly stuck – his vocab didn't seem right, the structure of his sentences didn't seem right ... I don't know, I'm still not completely happy with that bit. But you're right, we don't know how JK would make him behave if he was to fancy someone, so maybe I'm just being too much of a perfectionist. Anyway, thank you for another cool review, and I'll be looking forward to another one!

Yoshi: Oh my, thank you _so_ much for the kind words; you really make me blush. And although I'm sure there are many greater fics out there than the one I'm writing, I'm definitely pleased to hear that you like it so much. I wish I would have more time for writing so that I could give you a new chapter sooner, but, as it is, you'll just have to bear with me. Thank you once again for the beautiful review, and I hope you liked the new update!

Queen of Zan: Oh, I definitely don't mind you saying that my fic is good once more – anything to improve my incredibly low confidence :) And I'm also glad that you found something nice to read while waiting for me to update, because I really do take terribly long. I might go and read that fic myself if you think it's so good. BTW, I've read your 'Poor Poor Snape', so I thought I'd just give you a quick review here. I have to say it was a little chaotic, and Snape, of course, wasn't too IC (but since the fic obviously isn't pretending to be serious, I really didn't mind), but there were some good moments – for example Snape's horrible fake smile, or your explanation of why Snape favours Draco (I totally agree with that explanation, actually; I don't think Snape has any other reason for being so nice to Draco in the real HP books, either). And I am also convinced that Snape loved Lily, and that one of the reasons why he hates Harry is because he reminds him of her. I discussed this with my friend not too long ago, actually, and we came to the conclusion that there's one clue confirming this theory in OotP – when Snape called Lily a filthy little Mudblood. I thought he was just overreacting at first, but if he loved Lily, then I'm certain that such a reaction would be perfectly natural for somebody like Snape. Anyway, enough of my blabbing. Thank you for reviewing once again, and I hope you enjoyed the new update. BTW, do any of your other HP fics feature Snape?

The Evil Cup of Tea: Well, thank you for all the nice comments – they definitely put a smile on my face. I'm especially glad that you don't think Elizabeth's a Mary Sue, because one or two people seemed to think she is. I, however, believe that she's far from perfect – just like me :) Well, if you thought that there was lots of Snape in the last chapter, I think you'll like this one even more. And I finally got to where I had wanted to get all along! Sigh ... I can only wish it were real, though :( Anyway, thank you once again for the review, and I am looking forward to the next one. P.S. That's great news that your asthma has decided to leave you alone for a while; hopefully it'll stay that way.

An Anti-Sheep Cheese Muffin: Oh, all right, thanks for explaining the nickname thing to me. I bet a cheese muffin is definitely very tasty (I won't ask you for the recipe, don't worry), but what's wrong with sheep? Why are they evil? Anyway, I'm glad you liked the last chapter, and I can only hope that you'll like this one as well. It's what I've been aiming for all along, after all – to get Elizabeth and Snape together :) Sorry it took so long to get out again, but I hope the length makes up for it. Anyway, thank you for reviewing, and I hope you managed to finish your chapter so that you'd stop getting threat mail.

Summner: Thank you, I'm so happy that you find the way I write Snape to be OK, because it often happens that I either don't know how he should react at all, or I think of about three different reactions and then have to pick the one that I feel is best. Which is sometimes an incredible dilemma. And what's even worse is actually putting those reactions into sentences that would sound Snape-ish ... I feel that my English is failing me there. Anyway, it's great to know that you're still enjoying my writing, and I hope you'll like this chapter as well. Thank you once again for reviewing!

Padfoot's Girl: Yes, you're right – the fun is definitely beginning in this chapter. And, as you can see, Elizabeth finally gets out of the hospital wing, too, only to end up in Snape's office :) You wouldn't believe just how much I enjoyed writing that scene... Um, I haven't seen Pearl Harbor, so I can't really tell you whether you're right about the battle or not, sorry. Well, I am glad you found yourself something to read to get you through the enormously long waits for my updates (school and fanfiction just _don't_ go together, unfortunately); I probably wouldn't go and read PotC fanfiction myself, but I agree with you that Johnny Depp was fabulous in the movie. He's _such_ an excellent actor (and such a handsome man, too), and I was also extremely disappointed when he didn't win the Oscar. He deserved it so much!!! Have you seen From Hell, by the way? I loved Depp in there too. And I might go and see Secret Window sometime as well. Anyway, thank you very much for reviewing, and I hope you enjoyed the new chapter!

ALittleBitOfDarkness: Another beautiful review from you! You are one of the few people who actually tell me what exactly it is that they like about my story, and not just that they like it. I really appreciate that, so thank you. Anyway, you said that you're happy I don't use innapropriate adverbs, but I think the reason for that might be that I don't trust my English enough to use too many complicated words; often I don't even know them. I'm also glad that you liked Elizabeth's behaviour (but surely you were exaggerating when you said that you can forget that you're reading; it's just words on a computer screen, after all), and I hope she seems even more real in this chapter, because I've put so much of myself into her. In fact, I was crying while writing the kiss. Oh, I get the thing about the pants now, and I am quite sure that if you got your hands on Snape, you would make him wear practically anything. By the way, I updated, so hopefully you'll leave _my_ pants alone. Anyway, thank you once again for the wonderful review, and I hope to hear from you again soon!

Sarvus Snape: Oh my god, you actually took the time to read my story more than once? I am flattered! And I'm also very happy that you like the way I write Snape, because it takes me ages to get him IC; I weigh pretty much every word of his. That's probably why it took me so long to update this time, since it's practically all Snape in this chapter. Hopefully the chapter is long enough to make up for that, though. Anyway, thank you very much for the encouraging review, and it'd be wonderful if I got to hear from you again sometime!


	27. Elizabeth's first lesson

Chapter 27 

Elizabeth's first lesson

When Elizabeth finally got back to Ravenclaw Tower, it was well past midnight. She, of course, knew that she was being horribly irresponsible, seeing that she did, after all, have a class to teach in only a few hours, for which she should undoubtedly be fit and well rested, but she had to admit that she didn't really give a damn. For now that she had, after two long years of suffering, finally managed to remove the barrier that the object of her love interest had so uncompromisingly set up between them, she simply couldn't bring herself to sacrifice the precious time that she could spend with him just to get some extra sleep, as she was quite certain that all the excitement she was currently experiencing would most likely keep her awake anyway. And since Snape didn't seem to be in too much of a hurry to let her go either (although he did – rather unconvincingly, one might add – sporadically remind her that _maybe_ it would be a good idea to actually start thinking about going to bed), they simply continued talking and talking (with an occasional kiss in between, of course) until they were both too tired to do anything except share one last goodbye kiss and then drowsily shuffle off to their respective bedrooms.

Luckily for Elizabeth, the common room was already deserted when she crept in through the portrait hole, and even Violet appeared to be far too sleepy to ask her any inconvenient questions. And so, with her thoughts still lingering some nine floors below her, Elizabeth merrily made her way up the winding staircase which led towards her dormitory, making sure to keep as quiet as possible as she reached the heavy door and pushed it open. The last thing she wanted was to wake Jane up, after all, and have her start-

"So, Elizabeth, how did it go?" came a sudden voice out of the darkness, causing the blond witch to cry out in surprise as well as shock.

"Jane!" she exclaimed as soon as she recovered, quickly lighting the tip of her wand and closing the door behind her so as not to bestow the whole of Ravenclaw Tower an early awakening. "How come you're not asleep?"

"Simply because I'm waiting for you to give me some first-hand information," replied Jane, eagerly sitting up straighter in her bed.

"Yes, Elizabeth, we're both all ears."

"Hermione?" gasped Elizabeth, briskly pointing her wand towards one of the farther beds which had until then been immersed in darkness, only to see her Gryffindor friend beaming at her from under the covers. "How on earth did _you_ get in here? I thought students weren't allowed to visit the living quarters of a house that was not their own."

Hermione flashed her a wicked smile. "I'm not Head Girl for nothing, you know. I can go pretty much anywhere I please. But enough of that – tell us about Snape!"

"Wait a minute ... how do you know that _that_ is where I've been?" asked Elizabeth suspiciously.

"Well, it really wasn't _that_ hard to deduce," smirked Hermione, in an almost Malfoy-like manner. "Neville and I had decided to pay you a short visit before bedtime, to wish you good luck with your first lesson tomor-, no, today, but Madam Pomfrey told us that she had already let you go. So we went up to Ravenclaw Tower, thinking that perhaps you had gone to your dormitory to prepare your notes and things, but you weren't there. Neither were you in the library, the only other place we'd checked, because after that it became quite clear to us that there was obviously only one plausible spot you could've possibly disappeared to – the dungeons. After all, I myself had told you to go and talk to Snape, so I should have known that it would be the first thing you'd do as soon as you were released from the hospital wing." She threw Elizabeth an impatient look. "Now, will you _finally_ tell us what had happened between you two or not?"

Glancing from one ready-to-turn-her-into-some-very-nasty-looking-animal-if-she-didn't-start-talking-immediately friend to the other, Elizabeth had no choice but to do as she was asked. "All right," she sighed as she tiredly sank down onto her bed, "but I'll make it short. Today's my big day, after all, so unless I want to doze off in the middle of my lesson, I really should get some sleep." And with that, she started recounting the events of the past few hours, keeping nothing (except for the nature of the things she had seen in the Pensieve) to herself but at the same time trying to avoid going into too much detail.

Hermione and Jane both kept relatively silent as their friend wound her way through her narrative; the only way to tell that they were, in fact, listening attentively being an occasional snicker or a sharp intake of breath issued every time Elizabeth reached the point in her story where she described some of the more cheeky reactions the Potions master had had to deal with from her. However, when she eventually got to the part where she and Snape had come to kiss for the first time, Jane simply couldn't keep quiet any longer.

"You're kidding!" she cried, looking utterly bewildered. "The evil Potions master ... he ... but ... that's unbelievable," she finished somewhat incoherently, regarding Elizabeth with awe.

"Unbelievable?" said Hermione nonchalantly. "Why? He was bound to give in sooner or later; he's only human, after all."

"Well, it's just that sometimes he doesn't look it," muttered Jane, still throwing Elizabeth incredulous looks. "If I had to count how many times he'd taken points off Justin and me for even the slightest display of affection... Oh, never mind." Waving her hand in a dismissive gesture, her expression suddenly became decidedly mischievous. "So, Elizabeth," she said, grinning from ear to ear, "is he a good kisser?"

Hermione sniggered into her hand.

Elizabeth smiled too, but her smile was rather more of the dreamy kind. "Wonderful," she replied absently, but quickly snapped out of her reverie and added: "But then again, I wouldn't really know, now, would I; I've never kissed anyone before so obviously I can't compare. Still, I'd say that even if he were the worst kisser in the world, I wouldn't really care, because for me it all depends on _who_ is kissing me, and not _how_. And – for the first time, at least – I was too nervous to notice such things anyway; I thought I'd stuff something up, like I wouldn't know what to do or, even worse, do it all wrong."

"But you didn't, did you?" said Hermione knowingly. "It all came naturally."

"Well, yes," confirmed Elizabeth thoughtfully. "I simply released all of the feelings and emotions that have piled up inside me during the past two years, when all I could do was watch him and bitterly dream of what I then thought could never be, and from then on my mind just lost control and gave way to ... I don't know ... instincts, I suppose. All I could feel was his warm body crushed against mine, and his soft lips gently claiming my own, and ... he still smells of camomile, by the way," she finished abruptly, before her imaginative mind could supply her with the appropriate mental images. She needed to get to sleep soon, after all.

"Well, I think that was a more detailed description than we had asked for," remarked Jane, making a disgusted face, "but still, what happened then?"

"We eventually decided that his office wasn't exactly the nicest place to talk, and so he took me to his private quarters," said Elizabeth matter-of-factly, sounding as though she had already visited Snape's rooms a thousand times before. "He's got something like a lounge there, which – he told me – he uses mainly for receiving visits, so after I had made him actually light a fire for once, since the room was absolutely freezing, we sat down on the sofa and simply enjoyed being together." She shrugged. "Well, and that's about it, I'd say."

"No sex?" inquired Jane, looking disappointed.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Wouldn't you want a bit too much from him?" she asked waspishly. "Personally I think that getting him to kiss me was more than enough for today. Plus, I'm quite happy with the way things are at the moment."

"Of course you are," agreed Hermione. "Really, I think you're doing just fine."

"Thanks, Hermione," said Elizabeth gratefully, throwing a meaningful look in Jane's direction before adding: "But now, if you two don't mind, I'd finally like to get some sleep. Good night."

And, wasting no time, she quickly changed into her nightgown and then eagerly climbed back into her warm bed, falling asleep within moments with the vision of her beloved swimming before her eyes.

"Wake up, Elizabeth, or you'll be late for breakfast!"

Elizabeth only groaned and rolled over, pulling her covers closer to her chin.

"Elizabeth, your lesson's starting in just over an hour!" urged a different voice this time, while its owner reached down and firmly shook Elizabeth's shoulders.

"Five more minutes," bargained the blond witch as she buried her head deeper into her pillow.

"Snape might be at breakfast," offered the first voice suggestively.

"Jane, you really _are_ unbearable," muttered Elizabeth, reluctantly opening first one eye and then the other.

Fifteen minutes later, she could already be seen entering the Great Hall and heading straight for the High table, where she unobtrusively claimed a seat next to her – now former – Potions teacher. Luckily it was the only empty seat there was, because otherwise she would've probably considered, so as not to arouse any suspicion, finding a chair next to somebody a little more friendly-looking. Like that plump, middle-aged woman over there, obviously one of the new teachers Dumbledore had recently hired.

As it was, however, she could do nothing but turn her attention towards Snape and cheerfully bid him 'Good morning', to which he immediately replied with a curt nod and a scowl. For a short moment, Elizabeth was overcome by a truly disconcerting feeling – that all that had happened last night between her and Snape had been nothing but a beautiful dream, and that now everything would be back to normal. She quickly shook the feeling away. Snape was merely putting up a very convincing act, and the fact that she had managed to squeeze his hand under the table whereas he squeezed right back was all the reassurance she needed. It was a simple gesture, no doubt about that, but at that moment it meant more to Elizabeth than all the kisses of the world.

Breakfast was over much too fast, however, and after Professor Flitwick ('Filius from now on, Filius!' Elizabeth mentally corrected herself), as well as a few of the other teachers (excepting Snape, of course), had jovially wished her good luck with her first lesson, Elizabeth hurriedly left the Great Hall in order to get at least slightly prepared. For although her classes had been the last thing on her mind so far, now that there was a little less than half an hour left until the start of her lesson with a group of Gryffindor and Slytherin fifth-years, she was beginning to get increasingly nervous. It was all very well that she was quite comfortable in the theoretical field, but, as Snape had reminded her more than once during their private lessons in the hospital wing, everything else only came with experience. All right, but what if she got killed by an exploding cauldron sooner than she could gain any? What then?

Her mind infested with such (and much worse) thoughts, Elizabeth eventually reached her dormitory and heavily sank down onto her four-poster bed. For a while she just sat there, letting her mind wander, before at last she got up, gathered her notes on the potion she was going to make the fifth-years do today, and went through them one last time. Personally she thought that the potion seemed like a relatively easy one to brew, but what remained to be seen was whether her class would be of the same opinion. After all, Snape had once grudgingly forewarned her that one of the Slytherins – some painful existence called Avesbury – was almost as talented at melting cauldrons as Joshua and Jamie had been, which meant that she would definitely have to keep her eyes open at all times. Although, with her current lack of sleep, she wasn't quite sure whether she'd manage that.

Time was pressing on, however, and so, even though she'd much rather be doing almost anything else, Elizabeth reluctantly set off for the dungeons, throwing her dormitory one last dejected look before she left.

The students were already loitering about the classroom door when she eventually reached the Potions corridor, many of them regarding her with unconcealed curiosity as she let them inside.

'They'd better like what they saw,' thought Elizabeth bitterly as she walked up to the teacher's desk and then turned around to face the class. It felt decidedly strange standing where she had seen Snape stand and glare at her so many times before, and she briefly wondered whether he had ever felt even half as nervous as she was feeling just then. She seriously doubted it.

Doing her best to pull herself together, however, she inadvertently allowed the class a little more time than was necessary to get settled, and so by the time she was finally ready to begin the lesson, most of the students were already engaged in a not exactly quiet conversation. Well, there was only one way to fix that...

"Silence!" she called, just loudly enough to outvoice the talkers.

To her great delight, the command had had the desired effect: the Gryffindors immediately hushed up and turned to look at her with an air of expectancy. The Slytherins, however, were a different case altogether. No only did they keep on talking, but it almost looked as though they had decided to make a show of pointedly ignoring her.

'Now what?' thought Elizabeth desperately. 'Should I yell at them until I go hoarse, or should I simply resort to... No, I can't do that. The lesson had barely started, after all; what would they think of me? That I'm some twisted version of Snape who only takes points from Slytherin? Definitely _not_. But maybe I could try ... yes, why not?'

"Excuse me," she said sweetly, eyeing the Slytherin section of the classroom with as much contempt as she could possibly muster, "I really do hate to be a bother but it seems to me that some of you have obviously not realized that the lesson had already begun."

"So what?" interrupted a fat, arrogant-looking boy sitting at the very front of the classroom.

Elizabeth met his gaze with calmness. "So nothing. It's just that I expect you all to shut up."

"Professor Snape didn't mind us talking," said the boy defiantly, glancing over at the other Slytherins who quickly nodded in agreement.

"Maybe, but, although the fact might have possibly escaped your attention, Professor Snape no longer teaches this class. You have a new teacher now, and your new teacher would appreciate it if you spoke only when called out."

The boy reacted by simply glaring at her, obviously at a loss of what to do. On the one hand, he didn't really want to go messing around with a teacher, but on the other, he knew that he would look bad in front of his class mates if he gave in without at least a decent fight. It seemed that he must have eventually come to the conclusion that the second option might perhaps prove even worse than the first one, for his expression slowly changed from sulky to determined as he muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "Make me."

"I beg your pardon?" asked Elizabeth, just to make sure.

"I said _make me_," repeated the boy, looking rather smug as several Slytherins whistled and cheered.

Elizabeth shrugged. "As you wish," she said slowly, doing her best not to show that what she was going to say next was exactly the thing she had been hoping to avoid. "Would a detention and a deduction of ten points from Slytherin suffice?"

To her enormous relief, this had caused the boy to fall silent at last; all she got in reply was a hateful look, which she pretended not to notice. Instead she turned her attention towards the other Slytherins, who had meanwhile begun a heated discussion largely accompanied by a variety of angry glances in her direction, and menacingly added: "And if I hear one more word from any of you, I will not hesitate to make it more." The chatter immediately died down, although the glares remained. "Now," continued Elizabeth, her expression slowly softening as she looked over the whole classroom for once, "as I have already told Mr-" she briefly consulted the parchment bearing the sitting order which Snape had prudently provided her with "-Kensington here, I will be your new Potions teacher from now on. My name, for those of you who don't know me, is Elizabeth Woodhouse, and I'm sure we'll all get along splendidly, just as long as you do what you're told. I really do hate resorting to punishments of any sort, but, as you have just seen, I will most certainly do so if the situation asks for it."

She looked around once again, happy to see that by now she had almost everyone's full attention, perhaps even Mr Kensington's, who was currently busy glaring at his desk but obviously knew only too well what was being said.

"Well," Elizabeth declared cheerfully, "I think that will do as far as the introduction is concerned; now let's get down to business. Please open your books on page 158 and read everything about the Dragon Breath Potion; I will ask you a couple of questions concerning the text when you're finished."

She watched with satisfaction as the class promptly started flipping through the pages of their textbooks until, at last, everyone had found what they were looking for and immersed themselves in reading. Well, no, not everyone. Mr Kensington's book was still lying closed on his desk, while its owner had unconcernedly resorted to playing a game of Naughts and Crosses with his neighbour (who, according to Snape's sitting order, incidentally turned out to be the infamous Mr Avesbury).

Elizabeth couldn't believe her eyes; the nerve of the boy was simply incredible. How dare he...!? No, she wouldn't get all worked up about it. She just wouldn't. She would deal with the matter calmly, and if that meant making Slytherin a hundred or so points poorer, so be it. Yes, it was, of course, true that she had originally come with the resolution that she wouldn't end up teaching the same way Snape had, seeing that she was quite sure that while she (and perhaps also Hermione) might not have minded his harsh methods, the rest of the Hogwarts students weren't nearly as tolerant, but maybe there was no other way. She wasn't being unfair like him, after all ... or at least not yet.

"All right, I think all of you must have read the text at least three times by now," she called some ten minutes later, allowing herself a small smile as some of the students started at the sudden sound of her voice ringing through the room, "so let's move on to the questions, shall we? Mr Kensington, what will happen if you add the dragon teeth before you pour in the blood?"

"Me again?" exclaimed the boy, making a face. "But you've already spoken to me today, Professor; why don't you ask somebody else?"

Elizabeth was just about to deliver a suitably sharp reply when the classroom door suddenly opened and a tall figure dressed all in black slipped in, quietly taking a seat at one of the back tables without anybody but the Ravenclaw noticing.

Elizabeth felt her throat tighten. 'No, no, no!' she wailed inwardly. 'Not _him_! Just when I thought that things couldn't get much worse, _he_ has to come along and... Now he's going to see just how badly my teaching's going, and I'll bet everything I own that he won't think too highly of me after that. After all, I have a student who keeps on answering back all the time, kids who are permanently whispering something into each other's ears, and I don't even want to think about what he's going to say when he sees his house losing a batch of points every ten minutes or so. Or when he'll have to carry one or more of his students up to the hospital wing, simply because I haven't been able to spot their close-to-explosion cauldrons in time. Which is bound to happen, especially now that he's sitting there and unconsciously making me even more nervous than I had been to begin with. Why did he come, anyway? Didn't he realize that it would look suspicious?

'I'll ignore him,' she decided eventually. 'I'll do my best to carry on as if he weren't here. At least he'll see how his precious Slytherins behave when they're convinced he's not around.'

And so, with a great deal of effort, she quickly tore her eyes away from the back table and leisurely resumed her dialogue with dear Mr Kensington, acting as though her momentary silence had been nothing more than a dramatic pause.

"Because I'm interested in what _you_ have to say, Mr Kensington, and not somebody else," she stated resolutely. "And, for your information, the fact that you have drawn attention towards yourself as soon as the lesson started is purely your problem, definitely not mine."

Mr Kensington only shot her a dirty look (already about the hundredth one that lesson), but said nothing.

"Well?" demanded Elizabeth testily. "I'm waiting for you to answer my earlier question."

"What question?"

"The one about the dragon blood and teeth," Elizabeth ground out.

"Oh ... um ... could you please repeat it?" said Mr Kensington, looking as innocent as a new-born. "I've forgotten the exact wording."

Elizabeth closed her eyes for a moment, as if praying for patience. 'I will kill him,' she seethed. 'I really will.'

In the end, though, she merely repeated her question, causing Mr Kensington's face to immediately light up with triumph.

"I don't know," he said smugly.

Elizabeth, however, looked even smugger. She knew it would come to this all along, after all, only she hoped that it would take slightly less time and vexation.

"Well, of course you don't," she drawled, "seeing that you obviously found a game of Naughts and Crosses more interesting than your textbook. Twenty points from Slytherin."

She could virtually feel Snape glaring daggers at her from the back, but she refused to look his way.

"Twenty?" cried Mr Kensington, incredulity written all over his porky face.

"Well, you did have a partner, didn't you?" said Elizabeth derisively. "Or do you mean to tell me that you played the game all by yourself?"

Mr Kensington turned a nasty shade of red, but whether it was from anger or embarrassment Elizabeth could only guess. "I will ... I will tell Professor Snape that you've been picking on me," he choked out after several seconds of tense silence.

"Oh, you don't need to bother," said Elizabeth with a sweet smile. "I will tell him myself. And I'm sure that when I do, he won't hesitate to additionally give you one more detention to go with all those points you've already lost your house today."

This time, she simply couldn't resist throwing a quick glance at her beloved, who looked as though he was about to say something but then thought better of it, having evidently decided to keep the class uninformed of his presence for just a little while longer.

Fortunately, Mr Kensington had unconsciously resolved to follow his example and finally shut up, leaving Elizabeth to continue her questioning without any further complications. In fact, even the second part of the lesson, where the students had finally got round to working on their potions, seemed to be going suspiciously well: nobody – not even Mr Kensington – was talking or hissing instructions into their neighbour's ear, none of the potions showed any signs of exploding, none of the cauldrons looked as though it was ready to melt ... everything was simply perfect. Almost too much so, one could say.

Elizabeth was standing at the front of the classroom, watching the students with growing satisfaction. Occasionally she would take a short walk among the tables, gaze into various cauldrons and gently inform their owners of the mistakes they had made, however minor they might have been. Something told her that she must have unconsciously picked that habit up from Snape. She _had_ been under his influence for quite a long time, after all.

As the end of the lesson drew near, however, Elizabeth's enthusiasm slowly gave way to tiredness, which she had, of course, expected, only not so soon. How on earth would she survive until the end of the day when she already felt like dozing off right there and then? Maybe she could sneak up to her dormitory and have a short nap after this lesson was over, seeing as she was quite sure that she had a free period then. And perhaps it would also be a good idea to get her hands on some coffee.

Momentarily absorbed in her musings, she didn't notice Mr Kensington's partner, Mr Avesbury, drop the wrong ingredient into his potion until it was far too late. There was no time to run for cover, there was no time to even draw out her wand ... all Elizabeth could do was watch in horror as the potion frothed and hissed ... it was bound to explode any moment now ... considering how fiery it was, it would undoubtedly take several days before any of them would get out of the hospital wing...

"_Evanesco_!"

Dazedly, Elizabeth watched as the contents of Mr Kensington's cauldron suddenly vanished, leaving behind nothing more than a cloud of thick smoke. But even though she couldn't see a thing, she knew only too well who was responsible for the timely spell. The rest of the class seemed to have finally noticed him as well, for they were all throwing anxious looks to the back of the classroom and whispering excitedly. All Elizabeth could make out, however, was a tall silhouette pointing a wand at the now empty cauldron innocently standing on the front table. That was, of course, great, but what was a poor teacher to do in a situation like this? If only the silhouette would come over and help her out...

But no: by the time the smoke had finally cleared, Snape was already sitting down again and looking just as bored and impassive as he always did, which meant Elizabeth would have to figure something out on her own. Fine ... so ... would it matter too much if that 'something' turned out to be simply copying what she remembered Snape doing in _his_ classes? She could only hope that it wouldn't, because her brain stubbornly refused to supply her with an alternative solution. And so...

"Mr Avesbury," she snarled, crossing over to stand right in front of the unfortunate potion spoiler (why only didn't she watch him more carefully?) and proceeding to stare at him menacingly, "I have a simple little question for you." She was pleased to observe that the boy was beginning to look increasingly disconcerted. "Where exactly did you go wrong with your potion?"

Mr Avesbury looked at his hands. "I don't know," he peeped.

Elizabeth sighed, then briskly turned towards Mr Avesbury's partner. "Mr Kensington, where did he go wrong?"

"Dunno."

Elizabeth gave him a fake, pitiful look. "Yes, of course. Why am I not surprised? Not only did you not read the text you were supposed to, but you also failed to pay attention during question time. In fact, I believe that the answer to my present question closely relates to the answer you had been unable to provide me with earlier, Mr Kensington." She paused for a while, this time indeed only for dramatic effect, before continuing. "You will both write me an essay – three rolls of parchment on the correct brewing procedure of the Dragon Breath Potion, to be handed in next lesson. In addition, Mr Kensington will come here tonight at seven to serve his detention." Needless to say, the two boys immediately started muttering discontentedly, but Elizabeth forced herself to ignore them. "As for the rest of you – leave your cauldrons where they are; you will finish the potion next lesson. Class dismissed."

A wave of undescribable relief flooded her as she watched the students fumble with their books and bags before they slowly set off for the door, until, at last, she and Snape were the only remaining occupants of the room. Neither of them looked as though they would move or speak any time soon, however, although Elizabeth silently wished for the exact opposite.

'Why doesn't he say something?' she asked herself frustratedly. 'Why doesn't he tell me that I should quit teaching before it's too late? Why doesn't he yell at me for ruining his house's chances of winning the House Championship? Why does he act as if I were invisible?'

Well, it was as clear as daylight that if anybody were to make the first move, it would have to be her. And so, with a deep breath, she eventually left her place by Mr Kensington's cauldron, crossed the room in several quick strides and then, as casually as possible, took a seat on the edge of Snape's table. The reaction this act evoked, however, wasn't nearly as positive as she had hoped it to be: all Snape did was raise one eyebrow, something Elizabeth didn't find exactly encouraging. In fact, she felt very much as though she had suddenly returned back to her student days, and was, without any chance of changing the outcome of her punishment, senselessly expected to provide a prompt explanation for being caught in a place which was strictly out-of-bounds.

After another minute or two of silence, however, during which she determinedly avoided Snape's gaze, Elizabeth simply couldn't stand the tension any longer; she had to get rid of what was on her mind or she'd undoubtedly go crazy. It was all a matter of opening her mouth and...

"I was hopeless, wasn't I?" she blurted out before she could change her mind.

Snape smirked. "It could have been worse," he said neutrally.

"No, it couldn't," opposed Elizabeth, trying to convince herself that Snape's disinterested tone existed solely in her imagination. "If you hadn't shown up and emptied that cauldron, half of the class would be in the hospital wing now." She gave Snape a curious look. "Why _did_ you come, anyway? I thought you were determined to keep our relationship a secret, or have you already changed your mind?"

"Certainly _not_," said Snape dryly. "However, Dumbledore had sought me out shortly after breakfast and asked me to be so kind as to make certain that your first lesson doesn't cause you any difficulties. Apparently, the man foresaw that a disaster was on the way and-"

"And he was, of course, right, as usual," finished Elizabeth, before Snape could do so himself. No, there was indeed no point in denying it now – Snape was being deliberately cold to her, which could only mean that she had done something to upset him. And while it didn't, of course, take a genius to work out just what that something was, since she had suspected that the house point issue would turn out to be a bit of a problem all along, inwardly she had still been hoping that maybe he would actually understand. After all, he constantly took points off other houses as well, didn't he? But no, she had obviously overestimated him. Apparently, he thought that while _he_ could easily deduct as many points as he wanted, _she_ possessed no right to do the same. Well, if that was the case, then it would probably be a good idea to somehow convince him that such a view was horribly selfish and unfair. Somehow... Oh god, why did he have to make things even more difficult for her than they already were?

"Severus?" she peeped eventually, her voice coming out unusually high and timid.

"Yes?" said Snape, whose voice, on the other hand, sounded cold and unconcerned. Moreover, his dark eyes were regarding Elizabeth with such intensity that she found it difficult to breathe, let alone speak. Wasn't that the ultimate paradox? She loved him, she had even kissed him, and yet, at times, she was still afraid of him.

"I'm sorry," was all she managed to force out at first, unwittingly grabbing Snape's hand for reassurance. To her great surprise, he didn't pull away.

'Could that mean that he isn't half as angry with me as he's trying to make me believe?' she mused as she pondered over what to say next. 'That he knows he ought to be upset but isn't, and so instead he's only pretending to be, just to teach me a lesson? Gosh, that sounds silly. And yet... Well, I'll definitely have to talk to Hermione about it, and see what she thinks. But for now...'

"I know you probably think I'm absolutely horrid for taking all those points from Slytherin," she resumed pleadingly, gently stroking Snape's palm with her thumb for added effect, "but I thought that you of all people would understand just how hard it is for a new teacher to gain respect. I promise you that next time I'll do my best to award your students as many points as I possibly can – be that for correctly answering even the most pathetic of questions or simply just cutting up their slugs the right way, I really don't care – but even you have to admit that today there was simply nothing to-"

"Yes, I believe you have made your point quite clear, Elizabeth, thank you," Snape cut in impatiently. "What I fail to understand completely, however, is why deducting house points and handing out detentions still didn't satisfy you? Did you perhaps think that by undermining my authority you would come to increase your own? Or can you, although I highly doubt it, offer me a different explanation?"

"Undermining your authority?" breathed Elizabeth, completely perplexed. "But I don't remember-"

"You don't remember?" repeated Snape scornfully. "Well, let me remind you... Using your own words – directed at Mr Kensington, of course – I believe you said: 'I will tell Professor Snape myself. And I'm sure that when I do, he won't hesitate to additionally give you one more detention to go with all those points you've already lost your house today.'" He threw Elizabeth a triumphant look. "Surely you remember now?"

"I ... yes," said Elizabeth faintly, her momentary inability to add more surprisingly induced by Snape's unintended demonstration of how brilliant his memory really was more than anything else. The man was a genius, that much was certain. "But ... where's the problem? You _would_ give him detention, wouldn't you?"

Snape looked at her as if she had just lost her mind. "No, I most certainly would not."

"Why?" Not a good question, Elizabeth knew, but she couldn't think of any other way of finding out.

"I thought you might be capable of working that out on your own," said Snape, looking disappointed, "but I was obviously mistaken."

Elizabeth felt as if her heart was being torn to pieces; the man sure knew how to hurt her in the most effective manner. No yelling, no reproach, just a simple 'I was obviously mistaken.'

"A teacher should never vouch or rely on the help of other teachers during classes," Snape continued, still sounding as though he were saying something painfully obvious, "unless it is something that only the Head of House can deal with. It is a sign of weakness. The students will sense it, of course, and their respect towards the teacher will lessen considerably."

"That still doesn't explain why you wouldn't give Mr Kensington detention," said Elizabeth meekly, feeling more and more like a five-year-old being lectured on why it is unadvisable to touch a hot stove. "I agree that I have probably lost even the little authority I had had to begin with, but how could I possibly undermine yours just by saying what you had so perfectly quoted here is beyond me. You were there, weren't you? He _would_ deserve another detention, wouldn't he?"

"Perhaps," said Snape non-comittally, "but that is beside the point. I rarely give detentions to Slytherin students, so even if Mr Kensington did deserve to receive one, it would look decidedly strange were it to come from me. Either people would think that you have somehow succeeded in making me obey your wishes, which, believe it or not, would undoubtedly cause my authority with the students to decline rather dramatically, or, even worse, they would start speculating about our relationship." He regarded Elizabeth with a degree of contempt as he added: "Does this suffice to finally help you realize just how foolish your remark had been? Or do I need to continue?"

"No, I understand perfectly," muttered Elizabeth, desolately staring down at her hands. Yes, she had made a mistake, but couldn't Snape be just a tad more understanding about it? She was only human, after all. Which, as a by-product, also brought along the ineluctable fact that right now, more than ever, she needed Snape's support (and a great deal of it, too), rather than contempt. Of course, she couldn't really expect him to suddenly start whispering words of comfort into her ear, as that would be deeply uncharacteristic of him, not to mention unsettling, but a kiss or two would... No, considering the way he was looking at her, definitely not. Then again, he couldn't stay angry with her forever, could he? Perhaps if she made an attempt to talk him out of it... Yes, but the problem was that for once she hadn't the slightest idea of what to say. Everything Snape had taxed her with was only too logical, after all. So ... how about putting in a little more physical contact? If he still hadn't removed his hand from hers by now, then maybe he wouldn't object to something a bit more daring, either.

And so, with a mumbled "This table is getting a bit too hard for comfort," and without waiting for Snape's consent, she leisurely slid off said table and settled on her lover's lap.

'Oh ... well ... not that sitting here is much better,' she thought with amusement, watching Snape press his lips together and turn away, his pale cheeks tinted with pink. However, whether he was angry because his earlier words had just been somewhat depreciated by his ... actions, or whether he was simply embarrassed, Elizabeth couldn't tell. Either way, what she did know was that at that particular moment he looked almost ... cute, maybe even handsome, and that it was _she_ who had had such an effect on him, a fact she still couldn't quite understand although it pleased her to no end. This was, after all, the evil Potions master whom she was referring to, the man whom everybody considered incapable of even a hint of feelings or emotions, and yet, here he was now, looking like a puppy which had peed on the floor and was expecting to be punished. A rare sight indeed, but not exactly what Elizabeth had been hoping to achieve. In fact, she was quite sure that her next step should probably be some kind of attempt at fixing the situation, although at the moment her brain felt hopelessly empty, and therefore not exactly ready to provide ideas. Least of all good ones.

"Severus, look at me," she said finally, forcing herself to sound firm.

Snape hesitated, but eventually obeyed, his expression so dark that even Lord Voldemort would have thought twice before he'd as much as consider opening his mouth. So much for the puppy look, then.

Elizabeth, however, had already decided to speak her mind, which meant that not even the deadliest of Snape's glares could possibly put her off. "Severus, I..." she began, but that was as far as she got. Try as she might, she could no longer resist the power of Snape's mesmerizing gaze, and it didn't take long before she found herself in its complete entrapment. Thankfully, the silent threat it radiated only a few seconds earlier had already dissipated, and was replaced instead by something that made Elizabeth's heart beat so wildly it almost burst. And so, although there were at least a thousand things she would have liked to say at that moment, in the end it came down to only one: "I love you," before she eagerly threw her hands around Snape's neck and pressed her lips to his. Needless to say, Snape didn't object at all.

When, at last, the couple broke away, to say that they both looked as though they had acquired an unusually bad case of bed hair would be a severe understatement.

"Perhaps we should take this elsewere," suggested Snape as soon as he was able to think clearly again, gently pushing Elizabeth off his lap and standing up.

"What, don't want to get caught snogging in the Potions classroom?" inquired Elizabeth with a mischievous grin. "Personally I think it could be quite interesting to observe the reaction of the unfortunate person who'd come to stumble upon us. Take McGonagall, for example-"

"Don't call alarm, Elizabeth," warned Snape as he hastily set off for his quarters, his black (and also somewhat rumpled) robes billowing behind him.

'Looks like my nap will have to wait,' thought Elizabeth with a snigger, doing her best to keep up with Snape's long strides, 'although I can't really say it bothers me. After all, what can possibly outdo a healthy dose of morning kisses?'

A/N: Well, once again the chapter took me a bit longer to write than I had intended, but at least it's done. Unfortunately, I'm going away for a month now, so I'll only be able to update sometime at the end of July. Hopefully the wait won't be too long for you, as well as for me. Anyway, thank you for all the lovely responses to my story, and I hope you'll all enjoy this new chapter at least half as much as I enjoyed writing it.

An Anti-Sheep Cheese Muffin: Oh well, I guess I'll have to survive without your explanation of why you have come to hate sheep. Anyway, I'm glad you liked the last chapter so much; "I am now officially excited" pretty much says it all :) This chapter probably took me a bit longer to write than you would've liked, but I hope you enjoy it all the same. Thank you for reviewing, and I hope to hear from you again!

Queen of Zan: Too short? Well, I don't really think I'm going to do any better than that; it was my longest chapter and I'm quite sure none of my other chapters will beat it. You're going to rewrite Poor Poor Snape? Well, let me know when you do; I'd like to know what you've done with it. So, it's the only one of your stories that's got Snape in it? How sad. I think that if I'm ever going to write another story, which I doubt, it's definitely going to have Snape in it again. I simply couldn't write about anybody else. Poetic licence, you say? Well, thank you for informing me of the existence of such a thing, now the Manson issue won't trouble me any more. Anyway, thank you for the review and your recommended stories (I'll definitely have to read them once I find the time), and I really do hope you manage to get more sleep (I don't think I could even exist if I didn't get enough sleep).

The Evil Cup Of Tea: Oh, thank you so much for all the praise, I'm really glad you liked the last chapter so much. I definitely enjoyed writing it, I can tell you that. Anyway, as you can see, there will indeed be more chapters – three after this new one, in fact. So you don't need to worry, I won't cut the story short before I have some fun with Snape and Elizabeth. This chapter was only the beginning of my playing around :) Anyway, thank you for being my wonderful faithful reviewer, and I hope to hear from you again!

Sarvus Snape: Oh, I can totally imagine the situation during your biology class; I get lots of weird looks when I read fanfiction as well. Usually because I'm trying to suppress laughter and miserably failing. Anyway, I'm so glad you think Snape was all right in the last chapter, hopefully I haven't slipped in this chapter, either. And I know only too well what you mean about those stories where Snape changes drastically after he falls in love; I can't stand it when he acts all lovey dovey. So the result was that I made a resolution before I started writing this fic – that I'm going to do my best to avoid doing the same thing. Well, I'm glad you didn't stop reading, you would've missed out on the good bit :) No, seriously, I assure you that you can trust me when I say that this fic simply can't have any other ending than a good one. I love Snape too much to do anything bad to him (well, except the bit with the Bludger), he gets enough of that in the books. Anyway, thank you for the wonderful review, and I hope you liked the new chapter!

FireValkyrie: Such a nice, long review – thank you! Yes, I know exactly what you mean about clasping your hand over your mouth, I looked just like that when I went to see PoA the other day. And, of course, Elizabeth and I would also have loved Snape to give in quickly, but then he would have been be OOC and I wouldn't have got so much satisfaction from writing it (and you from reading it, I suppose). I thought the MP3 bit was rather silly when I put it in, but everybody seems to enjoy it so maybe it's not so bad. Yes, I think it is almost a fact that Snape was no angel during his Death Eater days, and I got into a bit of a quarrel with my Grandma yesterday because she said Elizabeth is completely crazy for loving a murderer. So I told her that I'm obviously crazy as well, because I, of course, love Snape too. But he's reformed now, isn't he? He deserves a second chance, and he deserves somebody who'd love him, that's how I see it. As for your reviewers – did blackmailing them help? Did they "show their faces from the shadows"? :) Anyway, thank you once again for the great review, and I'm looking forward to hearing from you soon!

Moghedien17: No, I don't think you babble at all, and I appreciate you taking the time to read such a long story when you're obviously busy at school (I know only too well what that yields). At least you liked it, so that's great. Snape is the best of them, isn't he? Neither black, nor white, so you never really know what to expect of him, which gives you room for creativity when writing his character. Anyway, thank you for reviewing, and I hope you liked the new chapter!

Lemonapril505: I'm glad you're obviously enjoying my writing, and I have to tell you that you weren't the only one who's been waiting forever for Snape and Elizabeth to kiss. I, for one, was also rather eager to get there. Anyway, thanks for reviewing, and I hope you enjoyed the new chapter!

Yoshi: Oh yes, there'll be three more chapters after this one, I'm not about to end _yet_. First I need to have some fun with Elizabeth and Snape, don't I? And there'll be even more kissing coming up, too, I promise. Anyway, thanks for reviewing again, and I hope to hear from you soon!

ALittleBitOfDarkness: I have a very vivid imagination, so I tend to forget that I'm reading quite a lot, especially if the fic contains Snape involved in kissing and other such activities. And I think my imagination is the one responsible for my writing, not my talent, which, in fact, I'm quite certain I don't possess. I'm glad you thought the whole getting-Snape-to-give-in scene was believable, I did my best to make him put up at least some resistance. It would be terribly OOC if he gave in immediately, wouldn't it? Plus, I probably couldn't live with myself if I did it that way ... yew. How interesting that you can produce a line that rhymes without even trying. I think that I wouldn't be able to do that even if I did try, I've never written a single poem in my life. By the way, I definitely must come and have a look when you manage to get hold of Snape; the costume thing definitely sounds interesting. Anyway, thank you for another cool review, and I hope you liked the new update!

Mantand: Here's an update, hope it was quick enough and I also hope that you like it. Thank you for reviewing, and I'm glad you're enjoying the story!


	28. History repeats itself well, almost

Chapter 26

History repeats itself ... well, almost

November's foggy and murky weather slowly gave way to an extremely chilly December, but while Snape had, despite Elizabeth's antics, effortlessly managed to sustain his greasy git reputation, Elizabeth herself still wasn't any closer to finding a definite way of controlling her Slytherin students than she had been to begin with. Unsurprisingly, it was none other than Mr Kensington who continually remained at the top of Elizabeth's 'Most Bothersome Individuals' list, no matter how many detentions he thus earned himself, but the rest of Snape's house were usually not too far behind. The only exception was probably Mr Avesbury, who, once freed from Mr Kensington's undeniable bad influence and made to sit at the back of the classroom, not only kept quiet just like he was supposed to, but also began to finally concentrate on his potions rather than on playing Naughts and Crosses on the corner of his notes, and as such managed to, for the first time in his life, actually hand in something that was worthy of marking. Which, of course, _was_ something of a compensation for the appaling behaviour of the other Slytherins, even if it was still a long way from what Elizabeth had been hoping to achieve. So long, in fact, that the Ravenclaw was slowly beginning to doubt that she would ever cover it.

As if things weren't bad enough already, Elizabeth's relationship with Snape wasn't exactly blooming, either. Enlightened by the conversation they had shared right after her first lesson, Elizabeth didn't really expect the Head of Slytherin to further risk his image by somehow intervening in her constant battle against his house (not to mention waging a little talk with those brats of his on her behalf), but she did count, if nothing else, on his co-operation in other areas, especially where displaying affection was concerned. So far, though, it was always _she_ who somehow ended up making the first move (whether it was a kiss, or a hug, or just a mere caress), never Snape. True, he was usually more than happy to join in afterwards, but after a while Elizabeth found that this simply didn't suffice. It seemed almost as if he were afraid to start anything without her consent, although Elizabeth was completely and utterly baffled as to why that might possibly be. She even went as far as hinting to Snape that he most certainly didn't need her written permission to touch her whenever and wherever he felt like it, but either her hints were too subtle, or Snape simply refused to acknowledge them. Frustrated, Elizabeth eventually turned to Hermione.

"I think he just needs more time to get used to the fact that he's involved in a relationship," said the Gryffindor pensively, throwing an adoring look at Neville, who was hovering nearby but well out of earshot. "Neville was the same – thought I would mind if he touched me without warning."

"But I _told_ him I wouldn't," said Elizabeth desperately.

"Yes, but that obviously isn't enough. He needs to get used to it, too. I'd say that, just like Neville when we first got together, he hasn't yet _quite_ managed to come to terms with the fact that, after all the things he'd done, someone can still actually love him and not cringe when he comes within an arm's length of them."

"I see," sighed Elizabeth. "So how long do you think it'll take him to finally get used to it?"

Hermione shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine, Elizabeth. Although ... it _does _sort of depend on you a bit, now, doesn't it?"

"I suppose," said Elizabeth dully, somewhat disappointed by Hermione's unexpected lack of advice. Then again, perhaps the Gryffindor might prove to be a bit more helpful at least on the subject of Snape's supposed pretence of being upset, something Elizabeth hadn't had the opportunity to get round to asking as yet. Not that it really mattered in the end, anyway, because the little Hermione had to say on the matter was probably even more insufficient than her last comment had been.

"Well, it is, of course, possible," she conceded thoughtfully, "and I'm quite sure that by the end of your conversation he was definitely faking it, but at the beginning he really _might_ have been angry with you... I don't know, Elizabeth, I would have to have seen him to be entirely sure."

Elizabeth only nodded glumly, suddenly feeling no particular desire to continue her questioning any further. Why should she? It seemed only too clear to her that her relationship with Snape had now reached such a point that nobody, not even Hermione, could possibly help her with it any more, and that from now on she would simply have to sort all her problems out alone. Even if she had no idea how to, as well as practically no time to come up with any at least slightly decent solutions. She had, after all, at least a million other things to worry about as well: apart from being kept occupied by her teaching duties, she had also decided to resume her Apparition training, allowed Jane to bully her into continuing Quidditch practice (for, as Snape had rightly remarked, until she received her graduation certificate, she was technically still a student, and therefore also a perfectly legitimate member of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team) and, last but not least, agreed to take over and redecorate to suit her taste Snape's dungeon office, while Snape himself moved to the Defence Against the Dark Arts department several floors above. She had, however, firmly refused to oust him from his living quarters as well, claiming that she was perfectly happy to continue sharing a dormitory with Jane for the rest of the year; at least she would still have somebody to talk to before bedtime. Which was, of course, quite true, though Elizabeth's main reason for letting Snape keep his chambers was a tiny bit different. She knew she was probably thinking too far ahead, but what she was really hoping for was to, after the revelation of their relationship to the whole school at the end of the year, try and convince Snape to allow her to share his rooms with her. Although, on second thoughts, maybe he would become so fed up with her by then that she wouldn't even have to bother.

And maybe she was just being way too pessimistic: with the Christmas holidays lurking just around the corner, everything suddenly became a lot more cheerful. Dumbledore had made use of Snape's convenient retirement from the dungeons and assigned the house-elves to diversify both the classroom and the office with a great variety of Christmas decorations, the Slytherins seemed to have finally calmed down a little (if only due to Elizabeth's continuous threats of assigning them detention every single evening of the Christmas holidays, Christmas Eve included), and even Snape, with the prospect of a student-free two weeks ahead of him (and also, according to some, with the Order of Merlin, First Class, in sight) was suddenly a trifle easier to get along with. That's probably why Elizabeth, who, after last year's experience, would've normally never even dreamed of suggesting such a thing, somewhow found the courage to seek him out one evening while he was depriving his former office of the last remains of his possessions, seat herself on the same chair she had used on the night they had got together, and, after several seconds of silence, casually remark: "Did you hear that Dumbledore's planning another dance this year?"

Snape, who had meanwhile opened one of the desk drawers and started taking its contents out, looked as though somebody had just dropped a Dungbomb under his nose. "I certainly did," he said dryly. "It seems that my students hardly talk about anything else these days, and I must say it shows rather badly in their test results." He suddenly threw Elizabeth an uncomfortably searching look, then added: "But I am warning you, Elizabeth, if you are in any way thinking of repeating your last year's mistake and considering asking me for a dance, I advise you to think again."

"Why, didn't you like the dance?" asked Elizabeth, pretending to look crestfallen.

"That is irrelevant," said Snape, after a moment of hesitation. Elizabeth would have given anything to know exactly what had gone through his mind just then, but she knew better than to ask. "The important point is that the two of us dancing for the second time in a row would look highly suspicious. We might as well announce our relationship in front of the whole school, not to mention the Ministry of Magic itself, seeing as Dumbledore will presumably ask the Minister to stay for the entire evening. And I absolutely refuse to-"

"But if the Great Hall is going to be packed with people," Elizabeth cut in before she could find out exactly what Snape had been about to refuse doing, "then we might not stand out as much as we did last year, don't you think? We'll get lost in the crowd, plus I suspect that by the end of the evening quite a lot of people will be too drunk to notice us anyway."

"Quite a lot, perhaps, but not nearly enough," said Snape firmly. "Have you taken into consideration all the underage students, who, as you should well know, are not allowed to drink alcohol? Or Dumbledore – do you honestly believe that the man, however inebriated he might be, will not put two and two together?"

Elizabeth shot him a sly smile. "Well, yes, but he was also the one who convinced you to dance with me in the first place, wasn't he?"

"Merely because he could not miss the chance of having a good laugh at my expense," remarked Snape bitterly. "He obviously never meant for us to find a ... romantic interest in each other," he finished, rather awkwardly.

"I wouldn't put it past him," said Elizabeth thoughtfully, remembering the smile Dumbledore had given her just after Snape had led her to her seat. "Still, why not use his little joke to our advantage?" She leaned across the desk until she was as close to Snape as she could possibly get, then dropped her voice to a conspirational half-whisper, as if afraid of being overheard. "Look, it will be a piece of cake. All you have to do, after I come and ask you for a dance, is throw one of your famous death glares in Dumbledore's direction, mutter something about not even bothering to refuse the proposal when he's going to make you go out there anyway, no matter what you say, and then – extremely reluctantly, of course – lead me out onto the dance floor. Naturally, if Dumbledore decides to repeat what he did last year and actually give you a little push of his own accord, he will only be playing into our hands."

Snape, however, didn't seem to share her enthusiasm. "Dumbledore is not as foolish as he tries to make himself look sometimes, Elizabeth," he said grimly. "He will detect our true intentions with absurd ease."

"Oh, do stop being so paranoid, Severus," said Elizabeth airily. "Just because _you_ know what we're up to doesn't mean everybody else has to see it the same way. Try looking at it from Dumbledore's point of view: can you think of any reason why he shouldn't consider us as just another harmless student/teacher pair? Not to mention the fact that I'm virtually a fully-fledged member of the staff? He was OK with us dancing last year, so why should this year be any different? If anything, he'll come to the conclusion that I've probably got a bit of a crush on you, but there's absolutely no way of him finding out that we've already reached quite a different level than that."

"You do not know him, Elizabeth," muttered Snape, opening another drawer and throwing some of its contents on the desk. "There are not many things you can keep from Albus Dumbledore."

Elizabeth, however, was no longer listening; she was too attracted by a certain letter protruding from the pile Snape had just placed in front of her. Surely it couldn't be...

She reached out for the familiar envelope, intending to take a closer look, but Snape snatched it from under her fingers and quickly hid it in the pocket of his robes.

Unfortunately, though, this act only confirmed Elizabeth's suspicions.

"Severus," she drawled, her lips spreading into a wicked smile, "that letter you've got in your pocket ... it's not by any chance my Valentine, is it?"

Snape straightened up, his expression suddenly intimidating. "And even if it were?" he asked quietly, obviously hoping to bully Elizabeth into dropping the subject.

Which, of course, Elizabeth did not do. "I never knew you were so sentimental, Severus," she cooed, completely ignoring Snape's discouraging tone. "Keeping the Valentine for all this time..."

"I believed it to be one of Potter's pranks," said Snape tensely. "I retained it as evidence, in case I ever acquired sufficient proof to-"

"Even after I told you it was from me?" queried Elizabeth, trying to look both surprised and incredulous at the same time.

"No, of course not," said Snape irritably, bending down and focusing his attention back on the drawer. "I intended to dispose of it, along with all the other useless things contained in this drawer, only, until now, I simply have not found the time."

Elizabeth, however, was not fooled. "Useless things, you say?" she stated with a smirk, picking up a piece of parchment from the top of the pile where she had found the Valentine and taking a brief look at it. "You were actually going to throw out your Potions master's degree?" She picked up another parchment. "Or your Hogwarts graduation certificate?"

Snape threw her a murderous look, but said nothing. Elizabeth strongly suspected him of finally running out of arguments.

"You know, Severus, I really don't see why you should consider keeping a simple Valentine card so shameful," she ploughed on, taking no notice of Snape's forbidding expression. "If – strictly theoretically, of course – _you_ ever happened to send me a Valentine, I would keep it as well. I would put it on my bedside table and read it every time I felt lonely or miserable or god-knows-what-else. It's the natural thing to do."

"For a teenage girl, perhaps," said Snape dully, "but I would already consider myself to be well past such sentiments."

"And yet you still kept it," Elizabeth pointed out, "which just goes to show that it's the natural thing to do for everyone, not just teenage girls."

Snape had nothing to say to that, but rather than forbidding he now looked thoughtful. Elizabeth plucked up her courage.

"Can I see the Valentine?" she asked timidly. "I don't really remember what I wrote in it any more, and after all the time that had passed since I had sent it, it would be quite interesting to read it again."

Snape sighed, then reached inside his robes and reluctantly handed her the familiar pink envelope. Elizabeth opened it, unfolded the letter it contained, and immersed herself in reading.

It was almost as if she had gone back in time; all the emotions she had put into the Valentine suddenly came back to her with surprising clearness. The despair, sequent upon the fact that it was quite obvious that her love would never be returned, and yet, at the same time, the persisting hope that maybe, one day, something would happen... And then, of course, there was the love itself, seeping from every single inch of the parchment and not much different from the love that she still felt today. Somehow, she could no longer believe that even somebody like Snape had ever considered the Valentine to be nothing but a cruel joke.

She raised her eyes from the heart-covered parchment and cast the Potions master, who had meanwhile gone back to emptying out his desk, a curious look. Then, at last, she asked: "Severus, you didn't _really_ think it was Potter who had sent you the Valentine, did you?"

Snape set the stack of papers he was holding down on the desk with a 'thud'. "Potter is quite capable of performing such an imbecilic prank," he said darkly. "He is the first that comes to mind when dealing with something of this nature."

"Maybe, but I still think you didn't really suspect him this time," mused Elizabeth. "You would never have been so agitated if you did, even though you did your best to hide it. But afterwards you forgot to take points from me for not paying attention, and that gave you away."

"I am not used to receiving Valentines," said Snape testily. "Naturally I was somewhat ... surprised."

"_Surprised_ is not the right word," said Elizabeth resolutely. "You looked-" she quickly searched her memory for an image of Snape's facial expression on that day "-well, disconcerted, to say the least. Almost as if you were afraid of the Valentine being genuine, but at the same time wished it were just that."

Now, where on earth did _that_ come from? As far as she knew, it had never before occurred to her to describe Snape's unusual behaviour on St. Valentine's Day the way she just had, and yet, somehow, she suddenly knew she was right.

Snape, however, seemed to be of a different opinion. "That is preposterous," he snarled, conjuring several cardboard boxes into which he promptly started sorting the mess now littering Elizabeth's desk.

"No, it's not, and you know it," retorted Elizabeth, for once determined to evince a more satisfying reaction than the one she had just received. "Why are you always denying that you had ever felt anything more that just indifference? Would it kill you to occasionally let me in on your true feelings? I know you're not used to it, and I also know you have always considered it a sign of weakness, but I'm not asking you to confide to me every single thought that goes through your mind, I just want you to try and give me a straight answer whenever I ask you a direct question. I would love to share your feelings with you, I really would, but it's kind of hard when most of the time I can only guess what you think and feel." She paused, then quickly added: "And I'm not going to laugh at you, if that's what you're afraid of. I daresay you've probably had enough of that to last you a lifetime."

It looked as though Snape couldn't quite decide whether to feel upset or moved by her little speech; in the end he simply settled for throwing a stack of papers into one of the cardboard boxes and looking as though he hadn't heard Elizabeth at all.

Elizabeth watched him work for a while, unable to shake off the feeling that maybe she was trying to take things too fast. She didn't regret saying what she had (well, all right, she _could_ have been a little less blunt), but it was more than obvious that her words wouldn't have the desired effect immediately. Perhaps she should clarify her request a little, then, just to let Snape know that she didn't mean to rush him.

And so, after taking a moment or two to think up the most appropriate thing to say, she got up from her chair, walked around the table and gently placed her hand on Snape's shoulder, at which he tensed a little but otherwise did nothing to acknowledge the sudden contact.

Elizabeth ignored this evidently fake display of disinterest, however, and bravely went ahead with what she wanted to say.

"I'm sorry, Severus," she breathed. "I can't force you to share with me something you obviously don't want to. But ... at least think about it, OK? I'll always be there to hear you out, and maybe a time will come, just when I'll be least expecting it, when you will decide to make use of it. The fact that you do actually have feelings and emotions, just like everybody else, is nothing to be ashamed of, you know," she added as she slowly let go of Snape's shoulder and went to sit back down again, all the while wondering whether her words had had at least some kind of effect. It was impossible to tell: Snape still looked as though he had gone temporarily deaf, and so in the end Elizabeth simply gave up on her musings and proceeded to change the subject.

"Now, what about the dance?" she asked innocently. "You still didn't tell me whether I could count on you or not."

"I would have thought I had made that quite clear," said Snape primly, scrunching a filthy-looking parchment into a ball and throwing it into a bin under Elizabeth's desk. The bin swallowed it without chewing and presently let out a contented burp.

Elizabeth threw it a disgusted look, before turning her attention back to Snape. "Well, I guess you thought wrong," she said calmly. "Come on, Severus, just one dance. A nice slow one ... like last year."

Whatever Snape might have said, it was clear right from the start that he couldn't help but find the idea of dancing with Elizabeth somewhat more than just mildly tempting, and so it didn't take long before he grudgingly (how else?) agreed to go ahead with Elizabeth's daring plan. Elizabeth all but skipped from her office afterwards, making a mental note to write a letter to her grandmother at the earliest possible opportunity, asking the lady to send her some selected objects from the Muggle world as presents for a certain someone. Snape had been a relatively good boy this year, after all.

&&&

The few days remaining until the dance flew by mercifully quickly (mainly because all the teachers were kept busy in the Great Hall during their spare time, doing their best to make it look as representative as possible for the arrival of the Minister on Christmas Eve), and so it happened that the eagerly awaited evening arrived much sooner than Elizabeth had anticipated. Yes, it was true that she had wasted a good part of the afternoon in front of her mirror, charming and re-charming her hair, correcting her make-up and trying on various shades of lipstick, but by the point Jane had announced that it was high time to go and practically dragged her from the dormitory towards the stairs leading down to the Entrance Hall, she was still feeling as though her appearance could use a little more improvement.

"You look _fine_, Elizabeth," declared Jane irritably, after her friend had expressed her concern for about the tenth time since they had left their dormitory. "Now stop fretting."

Elizabeth let out a nervous sigh. "Sorry, it's just that since I had virtually compelled Severus to risk a dance with me, I want to at least make it worthwhile for him. I couldn't bear it if he were to regret his decision in any way."

"I see, but I somehow feel that putting on excessive amounts of make-up is not really something somebody like him would appreciate. Why, I wouldn't even be surprised if he didn't notice what you're wearing!"

"You know, Jane, I think you're wrong there," said Elizabeth thoughtfully. "The other day I asked him whether he wouldn't mind if I wore the same dress I had on last year, and he, to my great surprise, said something like: 'Certainly not. Black is an optimal colour when you wish to avoid attracting undesirable attention.' Which means he obviously must have noticed what I had been wearing, and remembered it for a whole year."

Jane, however, was no longer listening to her, for they had just reached the Entrance Hall where the first person they saw was none other than Justin Finch-Fletchley, who immediately captured all of Jane's attention. Elizabeth only sighed and continued into the Great Hall on her own, leaving the chattering couple behind.

Upon walking through the double doors, she was immediately struck by a pleasant wave of Christmas spirit, issuing from every corner of the Hall and creating a nicely relaxed atmosphere. Elizabeth soon felt considerably more light-hearted, and as such didn't even fall out of step when she noticed Snape inconspicuously surveying her from the teachers' table. Instead she briskly walked up to him and took the usual empty seat next to his own, giving him a nod and a bright smile as she did so. Unsurprisingly, Snape's only reply was his traditional scowl.

Deciding that this was about as much contact as she coud risk with the surly Potions master, Elizabeth proceeded to turn her attention to the rest of the Hogwarts staff, and soon became absorbed in a conversation with Professor McGonagall, who was sitting on her left. However, they had barely finished discussing Elizabeth's attire and started wondering what was taking Dumbledore, who had set off to fetch the Minister, so long when the double doors suddenly burst open and both aforementioned men entered the Hall in a swirl of bright-coloured robes. Dumbledore was beaming like a Christmas tree as he swiftly ushered the Minister to a specially added seat at the High table, his scarlet robes and hat combined with his silvery beard giving him a positively Santa Claus-ish look. The only things missing were the sleigh and the reindeer.

"It is truly delightful to see you all here on this highly special occasion," he began as soon as the Minister was comfortably seated and the Great Hall quietened down to a muffled whisper. Elizabeth couldn't shake off the feeling that any minute the Headmaster would suddenly start handing out presents. "But since I am sure it would be rather unpleasant to commence any festivities with an empty stomach, I suggest we all follow our basic instinct and begin the evening by indulging ourselves in a nice meal. Tuck in!"

Dumbledore had barely said the last word when the tables suddenly covered themselves with copious amounts of food, and it didn't take long for Elizabeth to realize that she was starving. Wasting no time, she quickly filled her plate with everything within her grasp, but even as she started shovelling food into her mouth she still couldn't resist stealing frequent glances at the dark-haired man sitting beside her. She wasn't really sure why, but she simply loved watching him eat, perhaps because he – unlike most other people she knew, including herself, who would have been quite at home sharing their meals with a bunch of pigs – went about it pretty much the same way that he did everything else: with elegance and efficiency.

After everybody had finished their dinner, Dumbledore gave another little speech, this time concerning mostly the defeat of the Dark Lord and the bravery of those who had participated in the final battle, followed by an even shorter speech by the Minister, who simply expressed his wish that those who had laid down their lives in the fight should not remain forgotten. He looked close to tears by the time he had finished speaking, which, Elizabeth thought, was quite understandable owing to the fact that two of the people who had perished in the battle had been his children. This pathetic display of emotion didn't last long, however, and Mr Weasley soon proceeded straight to the main event of the evening: awarding the Orders of Merlin. As if on cue, the Hall went almost completely quiet for this, and so it was to a room full of expectant faces that Mr Weasley, after summoning a long piece of parchment and a large, shiny box from under the table, read out the name of the first person to receive one of the Second Class Orders: Hannah Abbott.

"Hannah's Order of Merlin shall be sent to her grieving parents via owl post," announced Dumbledore gravely, and most seventh-years unconsciously glanced towards the unfortunate girl's empty seat at the Hufflepuff table.

Susan Bones's name came next, but this time a subtle girl _did_ rise from the mass of Hufflepuff students, and shyly walked up to Mr Weasley to claim her badge from the glittering box.

Elizabeth watched the whole ceremony with interest, but even so she soon found her mind straying to the upcoming dance and the act she and Snape would have to put up, and she involuntarily started imagining various misfortunes thanks to which their plan could fail. Absorbed in her worries, she only turned her attention back to the Minister when she heard Jane's name being called out, which meant that she was the next one up on the list. She gave Jane a thumbs up as the tall witch went to collect her badge accompanied by a round of polite applause, and then nervously waited for Mr Weasley to call her out. She nearly tripped over her dress when he finally did, such was her haste to get up from her chair, but in the end she made it to the Minister and back to her seat without any serious mishaps. Snape didn't even look at her as she shakily reclaimed her chair, clutching her new shiny badge tightly in her hand, but he did give her thigh a momentary squeeze under the table, which somehow pleased her more than the whole Order of Merlin business ever could.

She was still thinking about it by the time the Minister had announced that he would now be awarding the First Class versions of the Orders, after which he summoned a different box from under the table, even shinier than the first one, and proceeded to call out the name of the deceased Sirius Black.

This time, Elizabeth willed herself to pay extra attention to what was going on, dutifully making sure to give all the recipients of the First Class Orders, both dead and alive, the applause they deserved. Hermione gave her a bright smile as she walked past her on her way to the Minister, as did Neville, but Elizabeth was saving her greatest applause for quite a different person, a person who – besides Draco Malfoy, whose name she was thoroughly disappointed to have missed – she believed to deserve the Order of Merlin more than any other wizard or witch alive.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, the Minister read out Snape's name, and Elizabeth affectionately watched her beloved sweep over to claim his award. The clapping echoing throughout the Hall as the unpopular Professor shook Mr Weasley's hand was unsurprisingly a little less hearty than usual, but Elizabeth was sure that if the students knew even half as much about his services for the wizarding world as she did, they would have appreciated him a lot more, and perhaps even clapped at least half as enthusiastically as she had. As it was, however, all she could do now to make it up to him was mutter a quiet "Congratulations, Professor," as he took his seat again, never taking his eyes off the golden badge in his hand, and then, taking advantage of the noise coming from the Hufflepuff table when Professor Sprout's name was called, add in a barely audible undertone: "If anyone ever deserved this award, it was definitely you."

Snape said nothing, but his expression was the most content Elizabeth had ever seen him wear. She could only guess what was going through his mind just then, but she presumed it was bound to have something in common with the appreciation his father and his school mates had never given him ... the appreciation he had to wait for until now. Elizabeth couldn't help but feel immensely happy for him.

Her happiness somewhat dissipated, however, when Mr Weasley reached the very bottom of his list, and read out the names of Ron and Ginny. His voice was definitely trembling by now, and his eyes were glistening with unshed tears. Elizabeth, having escaped death only by a narrow margin, knew only too well how easily she (or anyone else she cared about, for that matter, including Snape) could have shared the two kids' fate, and she pitied the Minister greatly.

Mr Weasley pulled himself together admirably fast, however, and went on to call out one last name, a name Elizabeth had been sure to have overheard earlier.

Draco Malfoy.

"It is true that Mr Malfoy had not directly participated in Voldemort's downfall," Dumbledore stated solemnly, promptly cutting off the flood of 'Why?' questions that had filled Elizabeth's mind immediately after Mr Weasley's strange announcement. "He had, however, managed to singlehandedly eliminate one of the most dangerous servants Voldemort has ever had ... his own father. An act which, as I am sure you will all agree, required not only courage and skill, but also a great amount of determination and self-denial. The Order of Merlin, First Class, is therefore the least we can give the deceased Mr Malfoy for laying his life down in such an admirable manner."

Dumbledore finished, and the Great Hall remained silent for a second or two before erupting in the hugest round of applause yet. Needless to say, the Slytherin table made the most noise of all, but what did come as a surprise was the fact that even the other houses put their hands together for the boy who had spent a great part of his life taunting everyone who was unfortunate enough to cross his path. Elizabeth chanced a glance to her right, and noticed that Snape was also clapping a little more avidly than was usual for him, and looking strangely moved. She made a mental note to broach the subject of Draco at the earliest possible opportunity.

Which, it appeared, would most likely turn out to be the very much awaited dance, which seemed to be approaching rather rapidly now that all the Orders of Merlin had been given out. Soon all the students attending third year and lower were – although not without much discontented grumbling – sent up to bed, and the house tables were levitated towards the walls to create a spacious dance floor. The quivering tones of a violin orchestra filled the Hall not long after, and within seconds the first couples started rising from their tables and trickling out to dance.

Elizabeth shot Snape a questioning look, but the Potions master only shook his head and poured himself some pumpkin juice from the jug standing on the table in front of him. Quite a surprising act, in Elizabeth's opinion, considering there was an assortment of various bottles with alcoholic contents (which had miraculously appeared immediately after the younger students' departure) standing right next to the juice jug.

"You don't drink, Professor?" she asked eventually, after first making sure that McGonagall had other things to do than to eavesdrop on their conversation.

Following her example, Snape discreetly checked the seat on his right, where Professor Flitwick usually resided, but it seemed that the tiny man had already scuttled off to dance. Apparently satisfied, the Potions master turned his attention back to Elizabeth.

"Not unless I can help it," he replied quietly. "Why?"

"I don't know," shrugged Elizabeth. "Somehow I just didn't imagine you to be the abstainer type."

"I am not," said Snape. "I merely prefer to be in control at all times."

Elizabeth quickly pushed all the inappropriate thoughts this statement evoked to the back of her mind. Instead she raised her eyebrows and said: "Oh? Some bad experience?"

"More than one," said Snape grimly, the memory of his alcohol induced antics obviously still fresh in his mind.

"With the Death Eaters?" inquired Elizabeth, lowering her voice.

"Precisely."

"Oh." Elizabeth remained silent for a while, playing with her own goblet of pumpkin juice, and then said: "I suppose you don't want to tell me about it, do you?"

Snape smirked. "You suppose correctly."

"Not even after we get out of here, somewhere where we can talk freely?" demanded Elizabeth.

"Not even then," Snape assured her, and, in an obvious attempt to steer the conversation out of dangerous waters, quickly added: "Now, since you seem to be so deeply interested in my drinking habits, would you care to tell me why you have not touched any alcohol yourself?"

"I don't like it," said Elizabeth simply. "Anyway, do you think it's safe to go and dance now?"

Snape let his gaze sweep over the now crowded dance floor, then, at last, gave a reluctant nod.

Elizabeth hastily suppressed the urge to smile; instead she rose from her chair with as much dignity as she could possibly muster and, with a completely stony face, said: "May I have this dance, Professor Snape?"

Professor McGonagall turned around and gave her an amused look at these words, while Dumbledore remained completely absorbed in his conversation with the Minister and paid her no attention whatsoever.

Snape, on the other hand, stood up and threw her one of his most evil glares. "Miss Woodhouse, have you decided to make a habit of asking me for a dance every year?" he spat. "Is it really so difficult to find a student to go with? I daresay there are more than enough to choose from," he waved his hand vaguely in the direction of the dance floor, "so I suggest you turn your attention to your own age group and stop wasting your time here."

Elizabeth remained completely frozen after this unexpected effusion; Snape sure sounded as though he meant every single word. But even if he didn't, how should she retaliate?

Fortunately, her dilemma was quickly solved by Professor McGonagall, who gave Snape an extremely disapproving look and said: "Really, Severus, must you be so hard on the poor girl? I'm sure it wouldn't kill you to sacrifice a few minutes of your precious time to her, so I really don't see why you are making such a fuss about it."

"You sound exactly like Dumbledore," muttered Snape, the tone of his voice clearly indicating that he meant his comment more as an insult than something to be proud of.

"Who sounds like me?" inquired Dumbledore, who had meanwhile turned away from the Minister in order to join the debate.

Snape looked sulkily away and said nothing.

"Severus once again refuses to accept Elizabeth's proposal for a dance," said McGonagall accusingly.

"Indeed?" said Dumbledore, raising his eyebrows and giving Snape an inquiring look.

Snape glared back at him for a second or two, before finally admitting defeat. "Very well, then," he said testily. "I shall give Miss Woodhouse her dance if she so ardently desires it, seeing as a negative answer does not seem to be an option in this case. Come, Miss Woodhouse." And, with one last poisonous look at both the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall, he led Elizabeth out onto the dance floor.

"Why, Severus, you should have become an actor!" exclaimed Elizabeth as soon as they got swallowed by the crowd of dancing couples, where the teachers at the High table could no longer hear them.

"Ssh! Don't call me that!" hissed Snape, dragging her even further away from Dumbledore and company, as if afraid of them getting up and following him.

"Why? No one's listening to us anyway."

"I would think that highly dubious," muttered Snape, glancing suspiciously around. "Most people do not even intend to listen, but the moment they overhear something out of the ordinary, such as you calling me by my first name, they inadvertently prick up their ears in an attempt to find out more."

"Yes, but I still can't see why you insisted on my calling you 'sir' or 'Professor' in the first place while in public. All of the other teachers address you by your first name, so why can't I?"

"The other teachers, if you have not noticed, are all considerably older than I am," said Snape poignantly. "Were I to have a younger colleague, other than yourself, I would most certainly _not_ allow him or her to call me by my first name for quite some time to come."

"All right, _Professor_, I think I get your point," said Elizabeth mockingly, deciding to let the subject of Snape's title be for the time being in order to move on. "What I wanted to ask in the first place, actually, before you launched into your little tirade, was whether you didn't somewhat overdo the acting. I mean, if McGonagall hadn't come to my rescue, I would've had absolutely no idea how to defend myself against that scary outburst you put up. It just looked so genuine, and, for a moment there, I really thought you meant it!"

"A good sign," remarked Snape. "Now we can only hope that it was convincing enough to fool even Dumbledore."

"You bet it was," said Elizabeth grimly. "Now, will you finally tell me what you would have done if McGonagall hadn't stepped in?"

"Predicting a certain individual's actions, primarily of those in Gryffindor, is obviously something you still have to learn, Miss Woodhouse," said Snape amusedly.

"You mean you _knew_ she was going to stand up for me?" asked Elizabeth, astounded.

"Naturally," confirmed Snape matter-of-factly. "McGonagall is a Gryffindor to the core; I would have been highly surprised had she acted differently."

Elizabeth, however, couldn't help but feel deeply impressed by Snape's useful prediction, no matter how elementary he tried to make it sound, and, without even realizing it, she soon found herself staring in the direction the teachers' table, as if expecting McGonagall to turn into the Gryffindor lion any minute. Which, of course, she didn't, although, just as Elizabeth was about to turn her attention back to Snape, something strange really did happen: Dumbledore winked at her.

Deeply disconcerted, Elizabeth decided to share this unexpected sighting with Snape.

"Sev- sir," she began uncertainly, "do you have any idea why Dumbledore would possibly want to wink at me?"

"He did that?" asked Snape sharply, throwing Dumbledore a sideways glance; Dumbledore, however, appeared to be once again engrossed in an earnest debate with the Minister.

"Yes," nodded Elizabeth, panic creeping into her voice as she added: "Do you think it could possibly mean that ... that he _knows_?"

Snape seemed to consider this option for a while, then said: "It certainly could. But perhaps, and we can both only hope that it was nothing more, he was merely trying to indicate that you would definitely have his full support were I to cause you any further difficulties."

"Maybe I should go and ask him, then," suggested Elizabeth, "just to make sure."

"You will do no such thing," hissed Snape, looking unnerved by the mere idea. "If he does not know already, after that he certainly would."

"Yes, but wouldn't that still be better than this excruciating uncertainty?" urged Elizabeth. "How can you possibly be so calm? Weren't you the one who was completely obsessed with hiding our relationship in the first place? Or don't you care about that any more?"

"Of course I care," snapped Snape. "This, however, is no time for rash actions. We can only wait, which, I believe, is something you may also want to consider learning. If Dumbledore has indeed managed to see through our pretences, I daresay we will be hearing about it soon enough."

As much as Elizabeth hated to admit it, she couldn't help but feel that what Snape had just said definitely made quite a lot of sense, and so she simply gave an understanding nod and settled for continuing the dance without further arguing. In fact, she might as well make the best of it while it lasted, seeing as it might easily be the last dance she and Snape ever shared. If Dumbledore really knew, he would probably fire Snape-

No, she wouldn't think about that. She would enjoy the rest of the dance as much as she possibly could, she would ... hang on! Now that she came to think about it, how come Snape was, _once again_, holding her as if any unnecessary body contact with her would give him an electric shock? It wasn't as bad as last year, that was true, but it just wouldn't do. And so, just like the year before, Elizabeth decided to take the matter into her own hands, meaning that within seconds her head could already be found resting on Snape's chest, while the rest of her snuggled up to the warmth of the Professor's body as if it were the last source of heat left in the entire world.

Snape – as usual – tensed at the unexpected contact, and – not as usual – looked as though he wasn't enjoying it at all. "That was not a very smart move, Miss Woodhouse," he whispered into her ear, doing his best to gently push her away.

Elizabeth, however, wouldn't budge. "Why?" she asked, aggrieved. "We danced the same way last year and nobody got suspicious, so why should it be a problem now?"

"I believe you will work that out soon enough," said Snape, in an odd voice.

"You think so?" asked Elizabeth sceptically. "Because at the moment, I haven't got the slightest ... oh... I see..." Suddenly not quite as comfortable as she had been only a moment before, she hastily untangled herself from Snape and adopted the original distance. "I'm sorry ... it just didn't occur to me that even a dance would ... you know..." She trailed off, feeling somewhat awkward.

Snape only threw her a suffering look, but said nothing, and so they finished the dance in silence.

However, the moment they started winding their way back to their seats (and, of course, Dumbledore), Elizabeth's earlier fears returned with full force, and she simply couldn't keep quiet any longer.

"What are we going to do if he asks?" she inquired shakily.

"Admit it, of course," replied Snape, who had obviously been mulling over exactly the same thing, seeing as he immediately knew who Elizabeth was referring to.

"Even if he's got no proof?"

"Dumbledore's suspicions are often even worse than proof," said Snape, in a voice that clearly signalled that he considered the subject closed.

Which was just as well, for at that moment they had finally reached the High table, where all their conversation would have inevitably come to an end anyway. Elizabeth's feeling of dread strengthened considerably, and by the time she had at last covered the seemingly never-ending route to her chair she was positively trembling. She had barely sat down, however, when she suddenly noticed Dumbledore break off his debate with the Minister, and turn his penetrating gaze her way. She immediately prepared herself for the worst, unsuccessfully trying to find some compensation in the fact that at least McGonagall had gone off to dance, and as such wouldn't be there to hear what was to come. If only Dumbledore would make it quick, then maybe-

"Did you have a pleasant dance, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth nearly fell off her chair. Did Dumbledore really mean that, or was he just teasing her, before dealing the final blow?

"I ... yes, it was nice, thank you for asking," she choked out eventually, trying to add a smile but failing miserably.

"I am glad to hear that," said Dumbledore, giving her a dazzling smile of his own. "You and Severus make such a nice couple, it would have been a great shame were he to refuse your proposal."

And with that, he turned back to resume his discussion with the Minister, leaving Elizabeth rooted to the spot, her mind buzzing with questions.

What on earth should she make of all this? Did Dumbledore really know something, or was he just making small talk? If he did know, why didn't he confront her and Snape straight away? Was he perhaps waiting for a more appropriate opportunity? Would he invite them both to his office sometime in the nearest future, and then deal with them accordingly? She shuddered at the mere thought...

But then again, why did he wink at her? Didn't a wink generally express a person's support? Was it possible that Dumbledore knew about their relationship, and didn't mind? Why hadn't she considered this possibility before? Had Snape rubbed off on her so much that she had become almost as paranoid as he was, and therefore unable to see anything but the worst? Why _should_ Dumbledore mind, anyway? She was, after all, of age, she was not exactly a student any more ... why, perhaps Dumbledore was even happy for them!

Her brain occupied with such thoughts, Elizabeth didn't even notice the evening slip inconspicuously by, and was therefore rather surprised (as well as disappointed) when a slightly tipsy Dumbledore eventually announced that it was high time for bed. True, just like last year, she didn't really get down to much more dancing after her not exactly successful attempt with Snape, but the unique expression adorning the Potions master's face (which, in her opinion, suspiciously resembled jealousy) all throughout her two sporadic dances with Neville and some Ravenclaw sixth-year made up for that paucity more than generously. And so it was with this on her mind that she wished all the teachers a very merry Christmas, and then reluctantly left Snape's side as she joined Jane and Justin on their way out of the Great Hall.

The first thing she saw upon reaching her dormitory was her owl Wilma, who was sitting on her bed, a large parcel tied to her leg, and looking very much as though she wanted to say 'It's about time'.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Wilma," said Elizabeth apologetically, quickly finding an owl treat and offering it to her grumpy-looking owl. "Have you waited long?"

Wilma hooted in agreement, but nevertheless snatched the owl treat from Elizabeth's hand and started digging at it greedily. Elizabeth, meanwhile, seized the opportunity and quickly untied the package from the owl's leg while she was still busy eating, seeing as afterwards there was a slight chance that the bird might try to take some sort of revenge for the long wait.

"Who's that package from?" asked Jane curiously, sitting down on her bed and starting to undress.

"My Grandma," said Elizabeth cheerfully, tearing off the parcel's wrapping and relieving it of its contents with a mischievous smile. One of the contents turned out to be a letter, written in Grandma's typical, rickety handwriting, which Elizabeth decided to attend to first of all.

_Dear Elizabeth,_ (it said)

_So the two of you have finally got together, have you? I must say it was about time, and I am, of course, very happy for you, but it wouldn't have killed you to actually _tell_ me instead of letting me work it out merely on the basis of the unusual presents you have asked me to buy for you this year._

_However, I _have_ managed to get you everything you wanted, and I sincerely hope that Severus will succeed in keeping his temper in check when he opens his Christmas presents and finds out just what you have given him._

_Have a very merry Christmas, both of you!_

_Grandma_

_P.S. Don't worry, your little secret is quite safe with me. I wouldn't even dream of depriving you of the priviledge of telling your parents yourself. Speaking of which, do you think you could both find the time to come and visit us sometime during the Easter holidays?_

Elizabeth finished reading and shook her head at her own naivity; she should have known Grandma would figure everything out with comical ease. She quickly dismissed it with another amused shake of her head, however, and returned instead to examining the remaining contents of the parcel, her lips once again spreading into a mischievous smile as she did so. Grandma was right – Snape was going to have a very merry Christmas indeed!

&&&

Elizabeth got up early the next morning; she had set her alarm clock to wake her some two hours before breakfast (seeing as Snape had thought it a good idea to take care of all their present unwrapping long before the whole school was up, and therefore less likely to come looking for either of them), but in the end she turned out to be so excited that she didn't need its aid at all.

Twenty minutes later, a black and white cat could already be seen heading in the direction of the dungeons (taking into consideration the ungodly hour, it was, after all, much less risky than prowling the corridors in one's human form), and five more minutes after that, Elizabeth stood knocking on Snape's door. It opened by magic and Elizabeth quickly stepped in, noticing the door shut behind her with a loud 'snap'.

She found herself, like so many times before, in Snape's spacious lounge, with its snarky owner just rising from the sofa and coming over to greet her. They kissed, a long, sensual kiss that left Elizabeth burning with desire and barely standing. She had to admit, that while she would probably never forget the very first kiss they had shared, it was definitely nowhere near the standard they had reached now. Ah well, people are always improving.

After letting some time pass in order to recover from the dazing effects of the delight they had just endured, the two lovers eventually let go of each other, and Elizabeth graced Snape with a huge smile.

"Merry Christmas, Severus," she said quietly.

"The same to you," replied Snape, turning on his heel and briskly leading the way towards the sofa where two piles of presents were lying, one visibly larger than the other. Elizabeth was relieved to catch a glimpse of her own presents for Snape protruding from the larger pile, which meant that the house-elves, who were in charge of all the present deliveries at Hogwarts, had obviously done their job properly.

"Are these mine, then?" she asked excitedly, pointing at the other, somewhat smaller pile and immediately sitting down next to it.

Snape only nodded, looking almost ashamed at having to admit that he had bought anybody presents in the first place, and took a seat next to Elizabeth, who immediately snuggled up a little closer to him, beaming in a very Dumbledore-like manner.

"You first," she announced eagerly.

Snape threw his present pile a brief look, before turning his attention back to Elizabeth. "Very well," he sighed, looking as though he was doing the Ravenclaw a huge favour. "I presume _you_ are the one responsible for the green and silver wrapping?"

"How on earth did you guess?" asked Elizabeth in fake disbelief.

"You may want to learn to be slightly less predictable," smirked Snape, picking one of the Slytherin-coloured presents from the pile and beginning to unwrap it.

Elizabeth watched him for a while, but soon her curiosity got the better of her and she asked: "Severus, who are the other presents from? I never knew you had so many friends."

Snape glanced up. "I don't," he said darkly. "Certain staff members, however, obviously feel the need to endow me with some imbecilic little present every single year, no matter how many times I have explicitly asked them not to. Surely they must have given you something as well?"

Elizabeth grinned. "Would you believe I haven't noticed? I was so eager to get here this morning that I had barely spared my presents a second glance, to be honest."

Snape gave her an amused look, before eventually returning back to his present and ridding it of the last bits of wrapping. What he found inside was a medium-sized black box, which was soon revealed to contain a long, black eagle quill and a bottle of black ink.

"For marking essays," explained Elizabeth with a smile. "I noticed your old quill was getting a bit frayed, and you are also running out of ink."

"Indeed," nodded Snape, placing his present on the coffee table and reaching for another one. "How very thoughtful of you."

The next present turned out to be a book by Agatha Christie called _Ten Little Niggers_, something which, to Elizabeth's extreme amusement, caused Snape to look completely dumbfounded.

"Jane asked me to give you this," she clarified promptly, still smiling broadly. "It's a murder mystery, and she wants to know whether you can figure out who the murderer is before you reach the last ten pages or so."

"Miss Wells would do better to concentrate on her studies rather than on solving fictional murder mysteries," remarked Snape with a smirk. "Reading under the desk in class has become something of a hobby to her lately, and I daresay it is beginning to have a rather negative effect on her marks."

"I'll be sure to tell her that," sniggered Elizabeth. "But ... you _will_ read the book, won't you? Please?"

"We shall see," said Snape non-committally, grabbing another present from his present pile and eventually finding it to contain an MP3 player, not very unlike the one he had seen Elizabeth use in the hospital wing, and several Beatles CD's. He raised an eyebrow and gave Elizabeth a quizzical look.

"I thought you might like it," said the blond witch timidly. "Music helps you relax, you see, which is something I've never seen you do, even though you definitely should. Everybody needs to ease up sometimes ... even you."

Snape fixed her with a withering stare. "I relax during the night, which, believe it or not, I find quite sufficient," he said primly.

"Well, if you say so," shrugged Elizabeth, who, although somewhat disappointed, wasn't really in the mood for further arguing. "Maybe you'll change your mind later on."

"I highly doubt that," muttered Snape, putting the MP3 player away and searching his pile for the last of Elizabeth's presents. Elizabeth, meanwhile, prepared herself for the worst.

Which, unfortunately, was just as well, for the expression on Snape's face when he had finally finished unwrapping his present would have most likely scared even a Hipogryff.

"And what, pray tell, is this supposed to be?" he asked in his deadliest voice, holding the offending present up for Elizabeth to see.

"Er ... a shampoo?" Elizabeth supplied innocently.

Snape threw her a contemptuous look. "So I've noticed." He glanced at the label. "For greasy hair, even. How extremely thoughtful of you. And, of course, highly amusing."

Elizabeth couldn't help but notice that while he had used almost exactly the same words as when he had commented the quill and ink bottle, the tone of his voice had now changed rather dramatically. Although definitely not for the better.

Elizabeth decided it was time for an explanation.

"I didn't mean it as a joke," she stated firmly, engaging her best you've-got-to-believe-me voice. "I just thought you might find it useful. Didn't you once say that you're not willing to wash your hair more than once a week? Well, with this-" she pointed to the bottle of shampoo Snape was still holding in his hand, glaring at it as if it were poisoned "-you won't have to, and still your hair will remain grease-free right until you next wash it."

"And where, may I ask, did you get the idea that I might want my hair grease-free to begin with?" asked Snape maliciously.

Elizabeth let out a sigh of exasperation. "Severus, you're being deliberately difficult. Can you give me any plausible reason why you _would_ actually want your hair to remain the way it is? Doesn't it bother you at all when people secretly laugh at you and call you a greasy git behind your back?"

"I have grown used to it," said Snape placidly. "My hair has been greasy ever since I first started school, and, in case it still hasn't occurred to you, it would look highly suspicious were I to suddenly alter it."

"Oh, but I never said I wanted you to wash it _now_!" exclaimed Elizabeth. "I just thought that you might like to try it sometime when we're alone, so that for once I could actually run my hands through your hair without it feeling a bit ... well ... you know..." She trailed off, suddenly wondering whether she hadn't already said too much as it was.

Obviously she had.

"If you want to run your hands through somebody's hair without feeling disgusted," said Snape curtly, looking rather affronted, "you might as well find a more suitable object to practise it upon."

Elizabeth straightened up and looked at him in disbelief. "Are you actually trying to say that you'd rather let me run off with another man than wash your hair?"

Snape's lips curled into a sneer. "No, I am merely insinuating that if you believe hair to play such a vital role in a relationship, you have obviously chosen an inadequate partner."

Elizabeth sighed; this conversation was evidently going nowhere, which meant that it was high time for a change of tactic.

"Now, I'm sure you didn't mean that," she said mildly, snuggling back to her original position with her head resting on Snape's shoulder. "You know only too well that I never wanted anyone else but you, and that's not about to change. I'm also sure you know that whether your hair is greasy or not is the last thing I care about; I just thought a little change wouldn't hurt. But if you don't want to, fine, I'm definitely not going to force you. Maybe you'll choose to surprise me sometime, but for now let's forget all about the shampoo, and concentrate instead on your presents for me." And with that, she immediately turned towards the small present pile lying beside her and started inspecting it. "Let me see now ... which one do you suggest I open first?"

Snape, looking slightly taken aback by her unexpected change of attitude, eyed her suspiciously for a while, before eventually informing her that he would leave the choice up to her. Shrugging, Elizabeth seized the largest-looking parcel of the lot and began to tear off the wrapping.

"Why, thank you, Severus!" she exclaimed as soon as she saw what it was – a huge, dark red volume called _Beaters, Bats and Bludgers_.

Snape only nodded, obviously not used to such displays of gratitude aimed at his person.

"But you know you're digging your own grave by giving me this, don't you?" continued Elizabeth cheerfully, examining the book from all angles before finally flipping it open. "Then again, if Ravenclaw really _does_ succeed in beating Slytherin when we next play, you can always blame it on the book, can't you?"

"Yes, indeed," smirked Snape, "although I strongly believe it will not be necessary. Ravenclaw have not defeated Slytherin for more than seventeen years; it would be extremely surprising were they to do so now."

"I admire your confidence," said Elizabeth with a smile. "Hopefully you'll still have it after the match, because, believe me, Ravenclaw really _does_ plan to win this year."

Judging by the superior expression on Snape's face, he didn't believe her at all, but at least he had the decency to keep quiet. Elizabeth, meanwhile, put her Quidditch book on the table and reached out for another present, which, in the end, turned out to be of the same nature as the first one, only this time it bore the title _Troublesome Students and How to Manage Them_.

'I wonder if it has Mr Kensington's picture in it,' mused Elizabeth as she fumbled with the wrapping of the next present, whose shape, much to her 'surprise', seemed to suspiciously resemble the first two.

The fourth (and last) present, however, was definitely different. Wondering what on earth it could possibly be, Elizabeth eagerly tore off the wrapping, opened the small black box that she found inside ... and gasped. Inside the box lay one of the most beautiful (and, as far she could tell, also most expensive) pendants she had ever seen: a silver snake with two emeralds in place of eyes and a tongue made out of rubies, coiled around the letters "E" and "W" which, though thickset with an ordinary-looking stone, emanated a bright white light.

Completely transfixed, Elizabeth simply couldn't stop staring at the beautiful jewel in her hand, and so it was really no wonder that a good thirty seconds had passed before she finally glanced up, and proceeded to pull a rather surprised-looking Snape into a tight hug.

"It's beautiful," she breathed into his ear. "Thank you _so_ much!"

And with that, she somewhat released her hold on the Potions master and leaned in to give him a swift kiss ... or, at least, that was what she intended to do, only it somehow turned out to last quite a bit longer.

When, at last, the passionate couple _did_ break apart, however, it didn't take long before Elizabeth's attention strayed once again back to her pendant.

"It really _is_ quite pretty, isn't it?" she enthused, turning it over for a while before finally slipping it around her neck. "Then again, the motive _could_ have been a little less predictable, in my opinion. Really, a _snake_..."

Snape wisely chose not to even comment that remark, and so it happened that the topic of conversation eventually shifted from pendants to something that Elizabeth had been meaning to ask about for quite some time already, only she never seemed to find the opportunity to do so. Yesterday's events, however, had once again renewed her determination, and so while she had decided to let it slide during the dance, when she and Snape had had somewhat different things to worry about, now it seemed that the time to find out just what the Potions master's opinion of Draco Malfoy was had finally come.

"I pitied him," said Snape simply, after Elizabeth had finally voiced the question that had been nagging her for so long.

"Because of his father?"

"Because of his entire upbringing," specified Snape. "His childhood had been very similar to my own – he was raised to become the family heir and his father therefore expected him to implicitly follow in his footsteps, which, in Mr Malfoy's case, obviously meant obtaining the Dark Mark." He paused, possibly to contemplate what to say next, then continued. "Clearly only to stage the family's wealth and power, Mr Malfoy was given everything he asked for, but apart from that, his parents did not notice him at all. This, of course, had been a fatal mistake, for when Mr Malfoy eventually realized that he was merely being used, he reacted as any teenager in his place would have done – he turned against his family, namely his father. The result, I believe, is currently known to the entire wizarding community."

"Yes, of course," said Elizabeth thoughtfully. "I suspected his family of being the unloving kind right from the start, and I suppose his upbringing also accounted for his exceedingly arrogant behaviour, but what I don't understand is why you of all people had to openly support it instead of trying to limit it. Why did you always treat him as though he was the king of the world, and never ever punished him even though he occasionally deserved it? It wasn't just because he was a Slytherin, was it?"

Snape shook his head. "Indeed not, although I had, of course, taken every measure to make it appear that way. In reality, however, I had my own reasons for treating Mr Malfoy the way I had: at first it was merely not to give Lucius any reason to suspect that I had, indeed, switched sides, which I am sure would certainly have happened were Mr Malfoy to tell him that I had – in his eyes, at least – been unfair to him in any way, but later I realized that were I to enrich my already lenient treatment of the boy with a little more sympathy, I might eventually be able to convince him to join our cause."

Elizabeth's only reaction to these words was a slight nod, mainly because she was too busy staring guiltily at the floor while trying to decide whether to tell Snape about her spying activities in his office or whether to keep it to herself forever more. In the end it was her conscience who had the last say, and she settled for the former. After all, secrets and relationships didn't really go together, and so, after taking a moment or two to pluck up her courage, she eventually raised her head and blurted out: "I ... I should probably tell you something."

The suspicious look Snape gave her at these words wasn't exactly encouraging, but she bravely ploughed on and presently managed to spill the whole story. Needless to say, she immediately felt a lot better, albeit somewhat apprehensive, seeing as she wasn't quite sure how Snape would react.

Surprisingly, though, Snape merely raised his eyebrows and said: "Indeed? And I had always believed that the worst rule-breaker at this school was Potter," before finally announcing that it would probably be a good idea to start thinking about going to breakfast.

&&&

February arrived windy and cold, but Elizabeth had other things in mind than to worry about the weather. For one thing, she still hadn't quite figured out what to make of Dumbledore, who, while never making even the slighest mention of her relationship with Snape so far, always graced her with a knowing smile whenever he saw her. Naturally, Elizabeth found this extremely unnerving, although inwardly she felt certain that were Dumbledore determined to take any measures against her and Snape, he would surely have done so before now.

The other thing that bothered Elizabeth was of a different nature altogether. St Valentine's day was almost knocking on the door, and she still hadn't really decided whether to try Snape's patience by repeating her last year's temerity and actually sending him another Valentine, or whether she should simply give the whole matter up and pretend that 14th February was a day like any other.

Imagine her surprise, then, when, after a restless night full of dreams about angry cupids dive-bombing her with Howler-like Valentines, the first thing she saw as soon as she opened her eyes that day was a solution to her problem, which, in this case, meant a winged house-elf carrying (much as she refused to believe it) a bouquet of red roses accompanied by a small card. It didn't, of course, take a genius to figure out just who was responsible for the thoroughly unexpected (yet pleasant) surprise, but Elizabeth still snatched the card (which, it seemed, was charmed to open upon her touch only) as if her life depended on it and eagerly immersed herself in reading.

_I believe you are well acquainted with my opinion of this infuriating and extremely tiresome day _(the card said)_, which I can only hope someone will have the sense to abolish in the future, but since I can only deal with so much in a certain period of time, and your continuous reproachful looks were I to completely deny today's existence would most likely extend far beyond that limit, I have decided to make an exception and send you something that will hopefully satisfy your Valentine desires to the full._

_May you have more success teaching those lovesick dunderheads something worthwhile than I had,_

_Yours sincerely,_

_S. S._

Re-reading the message several times and smiling like a lunatic, Elizabeth eventually put the card on her bedside table, relieved the still lingering house-elf of the roses and, with many words of thanks, sent him away. Then she found a piece of the magical parchment she had been given for Christmas two years ago, a quill and an ink bottle, and slowly started forming an adequate reply.

_Dear Severus, _(she wrote)

_Thank you ever so much for the roses and the 'Valentine'; they definitely satisfied my 'Valentine desires', as you so amusingly put it, more than sufficiently. I will therefore do my best to refrain from giving you as much as a single reproachful look today, and I may even stop by during my free period to try and make your day just a little more bearable. Until then, I can do nothing but say that I love you, and always will._

_Yours eternally,_

_Elizabeth_

She finished, only to find Jane, who had until then been sleeping peacefully, wide awake and curiously eyeing the roses and card on her bedside table.

"Are they from Snape?" she asked disbelievingly, rubbing her eyes as if to make sure she wasn't having visions. Then again, she could've just as well been ridding them of the last remains of sleep.

Elizabeth smiled and nodded.

"Wow," said Jane quietly. "He really must love you, Elizabeth. Even though he's such a greasy git," she added, as an afterthought.

Elizabeth threw her a look of fake contempt, but inwardly she had to agree with what her friend had said, if only with the first part. Because even though Snape had naturally never said it, nor had he written it in his Valentine, it was as clear as daylight that he did, indeed, love her with all his heart, as she could easily convince herself every time she looked into his eyes.

Heaving a happy sigh, Elizabeth began to contemplate whether she could possibly risk spending the entire day teaching her lovesick dunderheads how to brew Love Potions.

A/N: I'm terribly, terribly sorry for taking so long with this chapter, I know I'm lazy and sloppy (as Snape would say), but I've also been away for most of July and August, and have only got down to some proper writing a week or so ago. OK, that, and I'm also addicted to Minesweeper. That game should really be banned; I've heard that even JKR plays it, so if she's addicted as badly as I am, it's really no wonder that she's taking so long with her books. Anyway, once again I apologize, and I'll really do my best to get the next chapter out faster.

Crimson3: I'm glad you're enjoying the story, and I hope you'll eventually find some time to read the rest (and perhaps grace me with another review? Please?). And yes, Snape's underpants are really the best, I think they go together with him very well ;)

Padfoot's Girl: I'm sorry for leaving at such an unfortunate moment, but I really had to earn some money over the summer. I was in desperate need of a new mobile phone, and our monitor's screen had, for reasons unknown, turned blue, so we had to buy a new monitor if we didn't want to keep damaging our eyes. Anyway, I'm so happy that you liked the last two chapters, and that you agreed with how I got Snape and Elizabeth together. I really think he would never _ever_ start anything of his own accord, somebody had to push him to do it ... hard. As for chapter 27 – well, I certainly hope Elizabeth wasn't _that_ bad as to resemble a female Snape; at least she had a reason to take off points, while Snape usually takes off points for total banalities. Plus, as you could see, I don't think there really was another way for her to control the class. By the way, I also found the puppy dog thing incredibly cute; makes you just want to hug Snape and tell him everything's OK, doesn't it? Anyway, yes, I really can't complain about the number of reviews, although I can't help but feel that it's more than I deserve, taking into into consideration how long my updates take. I'm surprised people haven't given up on me yet. As for Johnny Depp – yes, I was also really happy for him when he won the Best Actor award, he sure deserved it for PotC! And my friend has seen Secret Window already and said it was also cool, so hopefully I'll manage to get my hands on it soon. Anyway, thank you for your encouraging review, and I hope you enjoyed this new (and terribly overdue) update!

Hillario: Ah, well, "cute" probably isn't exactly the word I'd use to describe Snape, only at some odd moments here and there, like at the end of the last chapter. Anyway, glad to know you're reading, and thank you for reviewing!

Moghedien17: I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter, and thank you for being so understanding. It's more than I deserve, in my opinion. Anyway, here, finally, is the new update, so I hope it will manage to meet your high expectations. Thank you for reviewing!

Queen of Zan: Once again, thank you for the praise; I'm so happy you find my style to your liking. I think that the reason for your being able to feel what Elizabeth is feeling is that I put in quite a lot of paragraphs describing her thoughts, which some people might find boring but I'm happy to know that you obviously don't. And you really think I'm getting better? That's so cool; I thought it was just my personal feeling. While I was away I went through the whole of my story, and I was absolutely horrified at what I had written early on. Especially the English, ugh! It's way too simple, and way too full of mistakes. So, I'm really, really grateful for your remark, and I'll try to keep improving! Thank you for the wonderful review, and I hope you enjoyed the new chapter!

FireValkyrie: Yes, I know I'm absolutely horrible for having to make such a long pause in the middle of everything, but I really needed to earn some money over the summer. Hopefully you survived the wait without any permanent damage :) Anyway, I'm glad you liked the last chapter and that you think Snape's still IC. I find it's getting almost impossible keeping him that way lately, but I'm doing my best. As for the murderer thing – well, _of course_ he's reformed, and I'm sure he would never _ever_ hurt anyone now, but my grandmother doesn't want to see reason. For her it's "once a murderer, always a murderer". I think I'll just give up on trying to convince her and just let her think whatever she wants. Anyway, personally I think that all the stuff Snape's done had helped form his character and make him become the person that we all love so much. I just can't see myself falling in love with a teenager Snape, because at that time he was just an unpleasant kid and nothing else. But now... As for PoA – yes, I was also deeply disappointed, especially where the complete change of scenery and Lupin (that guy was positively sick) were concerned, but, as always, Snape saved the day and made the movie somewhat more enjoyable. I must say I didn't really think too much of the scene where he was saving the kids, though, it made him look like Superman or something. Plus, it wasn't in the book. The scene I loved most was when one of the portraits said to Snape: "Are you deaf? Turn off the light!" I was smiling like an idiot for the next five minutes, and couldn't really concentrate on the movie! Anyway, enough of my blabbing. Thank you so much for reviewing again, and I hope you enjoyed the new chapter! BTW, don't worry about including some of my own responses in your review; I cut and paste a lot too, so I can easily imagine how it could've happened. Oh, and I've gone to the address you sent me, and it was like "oh my god!" I still can't get over it! It was disturbing! But what on earth was Lockhart doing there?! Trying to steal the spotlight, no doubt.

Sarvus Snape: Yes, yes, I know I'm absolutely horrible for keeping you waiting for so long, so your reminder was quite in place. I deserve no less than to have Snape chain me to the dungeon wall and ... er, wait ... come to think of it, I'd probably enjoy that, so that's not really a good enough punishment, is it? Well, whatever, the point is that I definitely deserve to be punished. Anyway, I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter and I agree with you that Snape wasn't exactly nice to Elizabeth, but it just had to be that way. It was as if he wanted to say "yes, we do have a relationship, but that doesn't mean you can do anything you want now". He doesn't want Elizabeth to twirl him around her finger and make him fulfill her every wish, definitely not. I don't know if I'll make him kinder to her later on ... probably not, because then I could easily slip into OOCness. And I definitely don't want that, I wouldn't like him any more if he were too nice. And neither would you, it seems, so that's good. Anyway, thank you for reviewing (and for the reminder as well; I really needed that!) and I hope you enjoyed the new (although horribly overdue) update!

The Evil Cup of Tea: Well, I wouldn't be so sure about the fluffy stuff, as fluff and Snape simply don't go together, in my opinion, but we'll see. An occasional kiss here and there won't hurt, of course, but otherwise it'll be mostly the two of them arguing over something, I guess. I'm glad you have faith in me, though, I'll definitely do my best to make the two remaining chapters (we're almost there, aren't we?) as enjoyable as possible. Anyway, no, I didn't go on vacation. I went away to do a part-time job in a supermarket, as I really wanted to earn some money over the summer. I needed a new mobile phone and a new monitor (the old one turned blue and was therefore successfully damaging our eyes), you see. I did go on vacation to various places afterwards, though, like our cottage (if you can call that vacation, 'cause I go there almost every weekend). I'm sorry you never get to go anywhere, and taking care of delinquent kindergarteners sure doesn't like too much fun to me. The orchestra thing doesn't sound too bad, though. Well, anyway, thank you for reviewing once again, and I hope you enjoyed the new update!

Shini the Graver: It always takes me _a lot_ longer than I originally expect to write a new chapter, so if you want to know beforehand, I'm afraid I can't help you. I _hope_ to finish the next chapter by September 20th, but who knows what will happen in the meantime, so I can't make any promises. Glad to know you're reading, though!

Ange de la Nuit: I'm glad to know that you're enjoying my writing, and I feel honoured that you put me in your Favourites list. Thank you for taking the time to review, and I hope you liked the new chapter!

Tessajalynn-cilory: I'm so happy that you're liking my story and don't worry, I'll definitely keep writing. There are only two chapters left until the end, after all. Thank you for reviewing, and I hope you enjoyed the new update!

Emily: Yes, I remember you and I'm glad you decided to come back and read; I admit I thought I'd lost you. Chapter 21 was pretty much a turnover in the whole story, so I'm pleased to know that you liked it. I know I enjoyed writing it, the tension at the end was incredible. You thought Chapter 26 was fluffy? I didn't think it was romantic at all, actually; maybe the one paragraph where they kissed but that's about it. By the way, I simply cannot see Snape being the first one to start anything, it's all up to Elizabeth, so that's why she was the first to move towards him, but I think they both leant in for the kiss at the same time. You'll have more of this "Snape never starts anything of his own accord" in this chapter, so you'll see what I mean. Anyway, as for your concern – no, I'm definitely not planning to abandon the story. It's true that I'm being horribly lazy lately and taking incredibly long to update, but I'll finish the story, don't worry. I only have two chapters to go now, so I would be crazy to stop writing now that I've come so far. But anyway, thank you very much for all those reviews, and I hope you enjoyed the new chapter! Hopefully the next one won't take over two months to write, but you never know.

Artistic Angel85: Oh, don't worry about only reviewing now, 'cause, as the saying goes, "better late than never", right? You were actually crying at the end of Chapter 26? That, I suppose, is positive, as I, too, was crying while writing it. I just so wished it were real... And, like you, I've also been waiting forever for them to get together, so it's definitely wonderful that I finally got there. Anyway, I'm glad you think my story's fun to read and, in answer to your question, I plan to write two more chapters. Thank you for your encouraging reviews, and it would be nice to hear from you again!


	29. Snape in the Muggle world

Chapter 27

Snape in the Muggle world

Nearly two months had gone by since Snape's unexpected decision to actually acknowledge the existence of something as contemptible as the customs of St Valentine's Day, and still his roses looked as though they'd just been plucked. Elizabeth figured he must have put some kind of charm on them, and silently marvelled at his thoughtfulness. Come to think of it, there were actually quite a lot of things concerning Snape that she simply couldn't help but marvel at lately, a classic example being that one day he had suddenly announced that he had finished reading _Ten Little Niggers_, whereas the murderer had already been known to him two-thirds through the book. Needless to say, Jane was deeply impressed by this finding, and immediately insisted on sending Snape another book. Snape, surprisingly, didn't seem to mind, and soon let her know that the murderer in _Sparkling Cyanide_ was probably even more predictable than his predecessor in _Ten Little Niggers_. To Elizabeth's great amusement, Jane's view of Snape had changed rather drastically after that, and the insult 'greasy git' had permanently left her vocabulary. Snape, meanwhile, seemed to have developed something of a passion for murder mysteries.

Despite these pleasant exceptions, however, there were still areas where he failed to surprise completely, and his attitude towards the issue of Easter fell into this category without question. Just as Elizabeth had expected, he strictly refused to even consider Grandma's invitation to visit the Woodhouse family during the upcoming spring break, claiming that if, by any chance, Dumbledore's only reason for continuously delaying their interrogation rested in an insufficient amount of proof, then the day the two of them coincidentally requested a leave during the very same holiday would be the day they could start digging their grave. Not to mention the fact that Snape had never asked for a leave in his entire life.

As much as Elizabeth hated to admit it, inwardly she knew that Snape's argument definitely had a certain degree of logic in it, and so, even though her personal opinion of Dumbledore's behaviour somewhat differed from Snape's, it wasn't long before she reluctantly assented to write her grandmother a letter informing her that Snape, unfortunately, was too afraid of Dumbledore's wrath to wage such a reckless venture, which inevitably meant that she would be coming alone. Little did she know that when it came to her grandmother, even the inevitable could still be averted.

Several days after Elizabeth had sent her letter and just before the beginning of the holidays, both she and Snape were suddenly requested to make their appearance in Dumbledore's office, which, despite there being absolutely no indication as to the reason of this strange biding, immediately caused the couple the expect the worst. They had no choice but to obey the Headmaster's wish, however, and so it was with a heavy heart that they eventually set off towards the man's sanctuary to find out exactly what he wanted.

"Maybe it's not what we both think it is," stated Elizabeth as they slowly climbed the stairs leading to the second floor. "Maybe Dumbledore had asked all the teachers to come, not just the two of us."

"If that were the case, then the meeting would have taken place in the staff-room," said Snape passively.

"Oh ... right." Elizabeth fell silent, unable to come up with any further theories explaining Dumbledore's request that didn't feature an accusation of a student/teacher relationship. Suddenly she was no longer as certain of the man's benevolence as she had been only a day or two ago, and it didn't take long before her imaginative mind began to generate the most horrible directions their meeting with Dumbledore could possibly take. She immediately felt a pang of guilt; it would, after all, be entirely her fault if Snape had to go through something like this. Maybe...

"Maybe we really should have left it until after graduation," she continued her thoughts aloud. "I must've been completely out of my mind to have pushed you into this. If anything happens to you, I'll never-"

"Enough, Elizabeth," said Snape, still in that strangely detached tone. "Now is not the time to bring such matters up."

"But-"

"But nothing. You should know by now that some things are simply too good to last."

Elizabeth sighed; it seemed quite obvious to her that Snape had already given up all hope, meaning that any attempts at a conversation with him would currently lead nowhere. It was therefore in silence that the two of them eventually reached the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office, which Snape promptly set in motion by muttering the correct password. Elizabeth threw him a fleeting glance as he waited for the wall behind the gargoyle to spring apart, and noticed that he looked incredibly tense, despite doing his best to give off an impression of complete calmness. She suddenly felt an irresistable urge to do something – anything – to comfort him, to make him, at least for a moment, forget what was coming, and so, after first making sure that there was nobody around, she took a tentative step closer and quietly said: "Severus, I ... I know this will probably sound corny, but ... I love you." It was only now that Snape turned to face her, and their eyes locked. "Whatever happens..." she made a vague gesture towards the spiral staircase "...in there."

Snape said nothing, but he didn't need to – his eyes spoke for him. They were full of anxiety, and despair, and sadness, and, most of all, love. And then, as if in a daze, he suddenly took one of Elizabeth's hands in both of his, which were incredibly cold, and for a moment he just held it, almost as though it symbolized the last shred of hope he had left, before, at last, he seemed to realize what he had done and abruptly let go. A second later, he was already about to step onto the spiral staircase, motioning for Elizabeth to follow him.

The ride up to Dumbledore's office only took a moment, and before Elizabeth realized what was happening, Snape had already knocked on the door.

"Come in!" called Dumbledore's cheerful voice from the inside.

Snape threw Elizabeth a quick glance over his shoulder, possibly to reassure himself that she was still there, then pushed the door open and stepped inside. Elizabeth quickly followed, only barely restraining herself from jumping ten feet in the air when the door suddenly closed behind her with a mighty _bang_. She instantly felt trapped, but did her best to ignore it as she accepted Dumbledore's offer to take a seat and sank down into one of the two squashy armchairs standing opposite the Headmaster's desk. Snape had already claimed the other.

"Tea? Biscuits? Lemon Drop?" chirped Dumbledore, standing up behind his desk and levitating an old and valuable-looking tea-set from one of the cupboards lining the office walls.

Snape firmly shook his head, and Elizabeth hastily followed his example. Dumbledore only shrugged, and sybaritically poured a cup for himself. Then, after taking an excessively long time with adding the milk and sugar, he finally turned his attention back to his two nervous companions.

"You might be wondering why I have called you here today," he began slowly, taking a sip of tea before continuing. "Well, let me enlighten you. You see, a certain fact has come to my attention ... a fact concerning the two of you." He gave his two guests a piercing look. "You still cannot see where I am heading?"

Elizabeth tried to arrange her expression into something closely resembling neutral, and, out of the corner of her eye, noticed Snape doing the same.

"Ah well, never mind," smiled Dumbledore, extracting a biscuit out of a jar on his desk and chewing on it thoughtfully. It was only when he had completely devoured it that he finally went on: "The information that has reached my ears is this: apparently, there is something more going on between the pair of you than meets the eye, something you do not wish the outside world to know." He took another sip of tea. "Perhaps it wouldn't be too much to say that you are – ah – romantically involved with each other." He surveyed the couple in front of him over his half-moon spectacles, looking almost as though he was X-raying them. "Do you have anything to say to that?"

Elizabeth glanced over at Snape, who was staring unblinkingly at the biscuit jar, obviously pondering over the wisest thing to say. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, his gaze travelled over to the Headmaster, and he said, in a voice that was completely steady: "Only that it is true."

"I see," nodded Dumbledore, his smile quickly fading. "And you did this even though you knew how most schools deal with student/teacher relationships?"

"Yes," said Snape firmly.

"So I presume you _are_ prepared to face the consequences, now that your little secret has been revealed?"

"I am."

"You too, Elizabeth?" asked Dumbledore solemnly, transferring his penetrating gaze to the Ravenclaw.

Elizabeth opened her mouth to reply, but Snape was quicker.

"I suggest you leave the girl out of this, Headmaster," he said quietly. "Punish me in any way you please, but it would be a great waste to ruin the life of someone as young as Miss Woodhouse."

He fell silent, while Elizabeth stared at him in shock. How could he possibly say such a thing? It was, after all, _she_ – and nobody else – who was to blame for the enormous mess they had got themselves into, and yet Snape was still trying to protect her by taking all the rap. Well, she wasn't going to allow that. If Snape was going to be punished in any way, so was she – she would make sure of that.

Then again, maybe not, considering the threatening look she noticed Snape give her just then, clearly indicating that she was expected to stay quiet this time ... or else.

Not even trying to imagine what the 'or else' might possibly be, Elizabeth quickly shifted her gaze back to Dumbledore, who was currently busy nibbling on another biscuit and seemingly pondering over Snape's earlier suggestion. Finally, he stuffed the last remains of the biscuit into his mouth and glanced up, nodding.

"Very well, then," he declared. "I agree it would indeed be rather cruel to ruin the career of our promising young teacher here, who, I am sure, will be able to learn from her mistake even without punishment." He gave Elizabeth an expectant look, as if to ask 'Won't you?', and the Ravenclaw gave a reluctant nod. Apparently satisfied, Dumbledore turned to Snape. "Severus, on the other hand, whom, at his advanced age, one would have expected to have more sense than to start a relationship with one of his students, will apparently need a more forcible reminder of how he is to treat the young ladies at this school. His punishment will therefore be..." Dumbledore took yet another sip of tea, clearly only to prolong the maddening suspense that hung in the air "...to accompany Elizabeth when she goes home for the Easter holidays."

Elizabeth stared at him for a moment or two, not quite sure whether he was serious or not, then burst out laughing. All her previous nervousness was suddenly gone, almost as if it drifted away with the giggles. Snape, however, was still looking tense, while regarding Dumbledore with a mixture of disbelief and suspicion.

"I beg your pardon?" he said finally.

Dumbledore beamed at him. "Is anything unclear?"

Snape, for once in his life, looked as though he wasn't quite sure what to say. Normally this would have brought Elizabeth some sort of perverse satisfaction, but seeing as this time she felt more sorry for him than anything else, she quickly decided to take pity on him and help him out.

"No, I think it's all as clear as daylight," she said with a smile. "I suppose my grandmother wrote you a letter, didn't she?"

Dumbledore answered with an even greater smile. "Indeed she did. She asked me to be so kind as to convince Severus that I really did not mind in the least whether he had a relationship with her granddaughter or not, and that it would therefore be perfectly fine if he spent the Easter holidays in her company. Naturally I could not refuse such an urgent request."

"The act you so convincingly put up at the beginning, however, was obviously your idea," muttered Snape, who seemed to have finally regained his wits.

"Oh yes," confirmed Dumbledore, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. "An old man needs to have some fun once in a while, don't you agree? And you two represented such perfect victims..."

"You really can be quite childish sometimes, Headmaster," said Snape primly.

To Elizabeth's not-so-big surprise, Dumbledore looked as though he had just been paid an enormous compliment. "There is an inner child in all of us," he said cryptically. "Sad are the lives of those who can no longer bring it to the surface."

He threw a pointed look at Snape, whose expression clearly indicated that he considered the Headmaster officially ready for a long stay at St Mungo's. Elizabeth decided it was high time for her to step in.

"Um, sorry to interrupt, but I think we might still have a bit of problem," she said timidly. "It's of course all very well that _you_ had absolutely no trouble accepting our relationship, but what about the other teachers? Won't some of them be scandalized when they find out?"

"Ah yes, I have already thought of that," smiled Dumbledore. "It is, of course, true that you have been of age for quite some time, and that most of the teachers at this school already consider you as their colleague, but I would still think it advisable for you to follow your original plan and wait until graduation before you let the information about your relationship become public knowledge. And as far as the Easter holidays are concerned, you need not to worry – I will naturally do my best to provide an appropriate excuse for your suspicious collective departure." He stood up. "Now, off you go. I daresay you both still have quite a bit of packing to do."

"Of course," nodded Elizabeth, also getting to her feet. "Thank you, Headmaster."

Snape, who was already standing beside his armchair and looking only too eager to leave, merely bowed, and led the way out of Dumbledore's office without a single word. It was only when he and Elizabeth had reached the safety of the outside corridor that he finally spoke.

"I sometimes wonder why the man had not been sorted into Slytherin," he declared, the tone of his voice making it quite clear that he had meant his words as a compliment.

"Yes, he had us both completely fooled, didn't he?" Elizabeth agreed absently, her mind already on other things, namely a certain episode in Dumbledore's office which she simply couldn't leave uncommented. And so, after a moment or two of deciding how exactly she should word her thoughts, she looked Snape right in the eye and said: "Severus, I have to thank you. That chivalrous attempt to protect me back there..." she waved her hand in the direction of the stone gargoyle which had just snapped back into place "...that was very sweet of you. Even though I didn't deserve it in the least."

Snape only nodded, once again looking somewhat taken aback by the fact that somebody was actually thanking him. Elizabeth made a mental note to try and do it more often.

&&&

The first day of the Easter holidays arrived before Elizabeth knew it, and sooner than she could say 'Portkey', she and Snape could once again be found in Dumbledore's office, both wearing Muggle clothes (much to Snape's displeasure, although personally Elizabeth thought that he looked rather good in his black shirt and trousers) and both pressing their fingers against an old, chipped tea-cup. Dumbledore himself was standing a few feet away, looking even more cheerful than he usually did.

"Well? Are you both ready?" he asked finally, and, after receiving two impatient nods in response, began a slow countdown. "Three ... two ... one ... enjoy your holiday!"

Elizabeth, who had never travelled via Portkey before, was somewhat shocked when she felt a sudden jerk just behind her navel lift her swiftly off the ground, and she quickly sought out Snape's shoulder for support. Fortunately, the dizzy transfer didn't last long, and so only a few seconds later, Elizabeth once again felt her feet hit solid ground. Only somewhat harder than she had expected, and so were it not for Snape, who had caught her just in time, she would have surely toppled over.

"Thank you," she muttered, shakily trying to stand up on her own. "I ... I think I can manage now." Finally succeeding in getting her legs to listen to her, she gave Snape an accusing look. "Why didn't anybody tell me just how horrid this form of travel was?"

"With any luck, you will most likely never have to use it again," said Snape encouragingly. Or as close to encouraging as somebody like Snape could get, anyway.

"As if Apparition was any better," sighed Elizabeth, feeling an unpleasant jolt in her stomach as she remembered exactly why she and Snape had Portkeyed themselves to a certain site in London instead of going straight to her house in the first place: she was, at long last, going to take her Apparition tests. Although, now that she thought about it, she was no longer sure whether she hadn't been somewhat hasty. Maybe if she put it off for a couple more weeks, got a little more training...

"Oh, Severus, I'm so nervous!" she exclaimed desperately.

"A typical state before a test," said Snape matter-of-factly, "which you will most probably be late for if, instead of trying to stress yourself even further, you do not take take an immediate leave."

Elizabeth glanced at her watch. "Oh my god, you're right!" she cried and, with one last anxious look in Snape's direction, dashed away, leaving the Potions master to watch her retreating form with a mixture of fondness and amusement.

A little over an hour later, however, she was once again back at Snape's side, appearing out of thin air with a loud _crack_ and yelling "I've done it! I passed!" at the top of her lungs.

"Well, that much is obvious," said Snape with a half-smirk, half-smile, allowing himself to be pulled into a tight hug but quickly breaking free when he noticed some curious passers-by turn around to goggle at them. "Now, unless you want to dawdle around here for the rest of the day, I suggest you give your newly obtained skill some further practice and Apparate us both to your villa, seeing as, out of the two of us, you are the only one who knows its exact location."

"So does that mean you actually trust me not to splinch us somewhere along the way?" grinned Elizabeth, feeling as though she had passed the Apparition tests all over again. After all, there were probably not many people whom Snape would dare entrust with something as delicate as the Apparition of his person to a fairly distant location.

Snape returned her grin with another smirk. "I think I will take the risk."

Needless to say, in the end Elizabeth performed the Apparition without a hitch, and so within seconds she and Snape found themselves standing on the Woodhouse's front porch, with all of their body parts still safely in place. Unsurprisingly, Snape looked positively relieved to have the transfer behind him; Elizabeth, however, still appeared somewhat anxious, although for a different reason altogether.

"I'm really not sure whether this was such a good idea," she admitted finally, staring nervously at the quiet house before her.

"As much as I agree with that opinion," said Snape, his voice carrying a trace of suspicion, "I do have to wonder why you would say such a thing to begin with. Is there perhaps something you have not told me?"

Elizabeth gazed guiltily at the ground. "Not really," she said, after a moment of silence. "I'm just not sure whether my parents will approve of my unusual choice of partner."

Snape's eyes narrowed. "Do you mean to tell me," he said slowly, the suspicion in his voice becoming more and more pronounced, "that your parents have not been informed of my arrival? That ... what exactly _did_ you write to them?"

"Only ... only that I would be bringing my new boyfriend," peeped Elizabeth. "I wanted the rest to be a surprise."

Snape, it seemed, was having quite a lot of trouble controlling himself by now, and Elizabeth couldn't help but wonder whether he had used the well-tried procedure of counting to ten before he finally responded. "Perhaps Dumbledore was not exaggerating at all when he called this trip a punishment," he stated resignedly and, throwing Elizabeth an impatient look, added: "Now, do you think you can ring that doorbell on your own or do you need me to do it for you?"

"I think I'll manage on my own," muttered Elizabeth, reluctantly moving towards the door to do as she was asked.

Thirty seconds later, the door was flung open by her somewhat flushed-looking mother, who, judging by the discarded apron lying on the little table in the hall, had obviously just been preparing lunch.

"Why, hello!" she exclaimed as soon as she saw who her visitor was, immediately pulling Elizabeth into a bone-breaking hug. "I must say you're a little early, but no matter; if you give me a hand, lunch will be ready in no time." At last she released her choking grip and, peering curiously around, asked: "Now, how about that mysterious boyfriend of yours? Is he here?"

Giving a nervous nod, Elizabeth stepped aside, while Snape, who had until then been keeping well out of Mrs Woodhouse's line of vision, moved over to get the greetings over and done with.

"Good morning, Mrs Woodhouse," he said tensely, and – just as tensely – stretched out his hand for Elizabeth's mother to shake.

Contrary to Elizabeth's expectations, Mrs Woodhouse recovered remarkably fast: it took barely three seconds before her dumbfounded expression gave way to a forced smile as she grabbed the offered hand and shook it heartily.

"Good morning, Mr – er – Snape, was it?" she chirped, taking no notice of Elizabeth elbowing Snape in the ribs at these words. Snape, however, didn't seem to take the hint and merely nodded. "Nice to have you here," went on Mrs Woodhouse, stepping back into the hall and motioning for the couple to follow her. "Come in, come in ... oh, and here's my husband. Henry, do you remember Elizabeth's Professor, Mr Snape?"

Elizabeth's father, who had just entered the hall from the living room with a look of utter confusion on his face, quickly shifted his gaze from his wife to Elizabeth, then to Snape, and then back to Elizabeth, looking very much as though he wanted to ask: 'Is _he_ the boyfriend, then?'

Sensing his quandary, Elizabeth promptly answered with a slight nod, which obviously seemed to be all that Mr Woodhouse needed, for he immediately said: "Of course I remember. How do you do, Professor Snape?" and went to shake the Potions master's hand.

Mrs Woodhouse settled for watching the pair for a moment or two, before suddenly taking a perplexed look around and exclaiming: "Oh, but haven't you brought any luggage? Aren't you staying?"

Elizabeth smiled and tapped her pocket. "We have both shrunk our luggage, Mum," she explained. "We'll go and unpack after lunch. Oh, and as for Wilma – we thought it'd be better if we left both our owls at Hogwarts."

Mrs Woodhouse gave her daughter a look clearly stating that conveniences such as luggage-shrinking would probably always remain beyond her reach, whereupon she spun around and swiftly led the way out of the hall and into the kitchen, with Elizabeth trailing slowly behind. Snape and Mr Woodhouse had meanwhile moved off into the living room.

"I simply _cannot_ believe my eyes," declared Mrs Woodhouse as soon as she and Elizabeth sat down at the kitchen table to cut up some more vegetables for the half-finished salad standing on the counter. "When you wrote that you would be bringing your new boyfriend, I naturally thought that you had _finally_ found yourself somebody your own age, but never in a thousand years would I have imagined that ... what on earth did you _do_ to him to make him suddenly decide that he wanted to start a relationship with you? Didn't you once tell me that he hated you?" A look of panic crossed Mrs Woodhouse's already agitated face. "You are not _pregnant_, are you?"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "No, of course not. And I didn't do anything to him, either. I only gave him a little push after I found out that, in reality, he was only pretending to hate me to disguise his true feelings for me."

"So ... you think he _does_ actually love you?" asked Mrs Woodhouse sceptically, attacking the cucumber she was currently slicing as if it were the cause of all her frustration. "From what I've seen, he doesn't bother to show it much, does he?"

"No," agreed Elizabeth, who, unlike her mother, was handling her vegetables with complete (although somewhat forced) calmness, "but that's definitely not because he doesn't love me. He's just not used to displaying his emotions; he thinks it's something to be ashamed of." She smiled. "I'd say he's getting better, though; all he needs is more time."

Mrs Woodhouse had nothing to say to this, but from the fierce way she continued cutting up the cucumber Elizabeth gathered that it was only a matter of time before she'd come up with another offensive question. And she was right.

"He _is_ going to sleep in the guest bedroom, I hope?" the lady in question barked suddenly, startling Elizabeth so much that she nearly cut off her finger.

"Well, of _course_ he is," she retorted, getting more and more fed up with her mother's interrogation by the minute. "Where else would he sleep?"

"How should I know?" said Mrs Woodhouse bitingly. "Perhaps you're used to sleeping together."

"No, we're_ not_," Elizabeth ground out, her self-control going slowly but steadily down the drain. "We're not _that_ far yet." Although, now that she thought about it, she suddenly realized that she rather wished they were. Not that she couldn't live without it, of course, but when she pictured the feel of Snape's bare skin against hers, her lips planting soft kisses all over his pale body, Snape's eyes glazing over with desire as he-

Perhaps it was lucky that the doorbell rang at that very moment, because had Elizabeth gone any further in her musings, she would've surely burst into tears. Not only because at that moment she felt absolutely positive that her fantasies would always remain nothing but mere fantasies, but also because her own mother was deliberately failing to support her. Yes, there was no doubt that she would most likely accept her choice in the end, albeit grudgingly, but did she really have to make her endure the journey to hell and back before she would finally do so? How many more tantalizing questions would she have had to answer had she not fled the kitchen to seek out the fugitive safety of the hall?

Wisely deciding to quit this particular train of thought while she still could, Elizabeth hastily pulled herself together, took a deep breath, and shuffled off to open the door. Unsurprisingly, the person she found standing behind it was none other than her grandmother, who, as soon as she passed over the necessary greetings, immediately lowered her usually loud voice and, with a twinkle in her eye that suspiciously resembled Dumbledore's, asked: "So, how are things between you and Severus? Was he too put out when he found out he had to come?"

"Not really," said Elizabeth hollowly. "I'd even say that at the moment he's more content than I am."

Her grandmother raised an eyebrow. "Well, that certainly sounds serious. What happened?"

"_Who_ happened, more like," muttered Elizabeth. "My mother happened – she doesn't seem to approve of my choice at all. You should have heard those spiteful remarks of hers: how she doubts that Severus loves me because he doesn't seem to be showing it, how she hopes that he would sleep in the guest bedroom, how-"

"Now, now, I wouldn't worry about that if I were you," said her grandmother comfortingly. "Your mother simply wants what is best for you, and so after she comes to learn that you and Severus really are as happy a couple as can be, I am sure she will change her mind and accept him."

"I know that," sighed Elizabeth, "but I'll probably go crazy before then."

"Oh, now, do you really think Severus would let you?" smiled the old lady mischievously, but then her smile slowly faded and was replaced instead by something very close to impatience. She adjusted her handbag, looked around, as if searching for something, and then finally said: "Now, I suggest we go and sit down somewhere, so that you can tell me all about how you two actually got together."

Elizabeth shot her a pained look. "Couldn't that wait?" she asked pleadingly. "I promise to tell you some other time, but for today I've had enough questioning about Severus to last me a lifetime. So please, if you want to do me a favour, don't bring the subject up unless you absolutely have to, especially not during lunchtime. I daresay my mother will take care of all the unwelcome questions on her own."

To her great surprise and delight, however, Mrs Woodhouse did no such thing. On the contrary: during the whole meal she spoke barely a word (although whether she was too upset to speak, too afraid of Snape to speak, or whether she simply didn't want to cause embarrassment wasn't quite clear), and so it was only thanks to Elizabeth's grandmother, who soon launched into a long series of questions concerning the events of the final battle, that the conversation was kept at an acceptable level. Even if it was mostly Elizabeth who provided the greater part of the answers (taking extra care not to slip and mention her close enconter with death, which, enlightened by her previous experience with her mother and grandmother, she had so far been carefully avoiding in all her letters home), seeing as Snape seemed completely entranced by his plate and rarely uttered sentences that counted more than one syllable.

By the time Mrs Woodhouse had brought dessert, however, even the seemingly endless supply of questions that Elizabeth's grandmother usually had in store ran dry, which suddenly caused the dining room to immerge into uncomfortable silence, where the only remaining sound was the occasional _clink_ when somebody's spoon came into contact with their plate. All in all, the atmosphere could easily be compared to that of a dentist's waiting room, with most of the people present even wearing the corresponding expression for such a place. It was therefore no wonder that Elizabeth and Snape didn't hesitate to leave the table as soon as they got the chance, disappearing upstairs long before Elizabeth's mother could as much as think of raising any objections.

"Well, now I'm _sure_ this visit wasn't a good idea," declared Elizabeth as soon as she reached the safety of the first-floor landing, where she was certain nobody from the dining room could possibly overhear her, and started leading the way down the corridor. "Did you see the look my mother kept giving me? I know we were supposed to stay here for almost two weeks, but with the way things are ... this is my room, by the way."

They had just walked past a plain white door, towards which Elizabeth made a careless gesture, and were now nearing another one, located at the end of the corridor.

"And this," announced Elizabeth as soon as they reached said door, opening it and feeling a wave of disgust rush over her when she suddenly remembered her mother's undesired comments about the sleeping arrangements, "this is the guest bedroom. Hope you'll find it all right."

Looking somewhat anxious, she hesitantly stepped inside and seated herself on the bed, while Snape took a curious look around. Apparently satisfied with his accommodation, he then pulled his suitcase (which used to be a trunk before Elizabeth, completely ignoring Snape's protests, decided to somewhat alter its appearance to resemble something a little more Muggle-like) out of his pocket, unshrank it and began to empty some of its contents into the built-in wardrobe opposite the bed.

Elizabeth amusedly watched him take out one black article of clothing after another, before, at last, she remembered her disrupted tirade about the length of their stay and chose to resume it.

"So ... as I was saying earlier," she went on forcefully, "I think two weeks at this house and in the company of my parents is simply too long. Three or four days maybe, but would you mind too much if we went elsewhere after that?"

Snape made a pause in his unpacking and turned around to look at her. "And where exactly do you suggest we go?" he inquired darkly. "Dumbledore would never forgive us were we to return to Hogwarts."

"Oh, but there are other places than Hogwarts, aren't there?" smirked Elizabeth. "How about your manor? Do you think we could possibly go there?"

"I ... would rather not," said Snape hesitantly. "It is not a particularly pleasant place to visit."

Elizabeth threw him a suspicious look. "That's not the real reason why you don't want to go there, though, is it?"

"Indeed?" said Snape coldly. "So what, according to you, _is_ my real reason, then?"

"Bad memories," supplied Elizabeth promptly. "You are afraid that the house will stir memories from your childhood that you'd rather forget."

Snape's gaze, if possible, turned even colder. "And how, may I ask, did you come up with such an absurd theory?" he asked finally.

"Easily," said Elizabeth, completely undeterred by Snape's discouraging attitude. After all, she had long since learned that it was all just an act, put up to make it somewhat harder for her to verify that she was, in fact, right. And although she suspected that Snape knew that she had seen right through him, he still did it; perhaps out of habit, perhaps because he no longer knew how to do it differently. And so she played along, partly because she felt that things could get somewhat awkward if she didn't, and partly because she had somehow come to enjoy it. "You had a traumatic childhood," she continued breezily, feeling almost as if she were explaining something to a slightly retarded three-year-old. "You don't want to return to the place where you grew up. What other conclusion could I have reached?"

Snape didn't respond immeditately to these words, which could only mean that he was planning some sort of nasty counter-attack. And sure enough, when he finally spoke, his eyes were glinting with something very close to triumph.

"Supposing I did agree to take you to Snape manor, however," he said slowly, as if relishing the ingenuity of his words, "then your famous conclusion would suddenly seem somewhat unjustified, would it not?"

It took all of Elizabeth's self-control not to smile. How easily Snape could turn his defeat into an impression of victory! He simply _had_ to have the last word, didn't he? But then again, why not? She would let him enjoy his moment of triumph for all she cared, because as long as it made him happy (and as long as she achieved what she wanted), she was happy as well. And so, after assuring him that he was, of course, right; that her conclusion really _would_ seem completely nonsensical, and after making certain that his agreement to take her to his home hadn't been strictly theoretical, she proceeded to completely change the subject and ask what on earth he had found to talk about with her father, whom she had always considered a quiet and somewhat boring comapanion.

"And yet he provided me with a very illuminating insight into Muggle medicine," said Snape, the tone of his voice – much to Elizabeth's disbelief – almost avid. "He, I believe, works in something called a chemist's shop, and as such was able to deliver detailed information on the exact composition of some of the more important Muggle medicaments. From what he said, I gathered that the chief ingredients seem to be mostly drugs – codeine or morphium, for instance – while substances common in the wizarding world, such as dragon blood, are not used at all, mainly because Muggles are not even aware fo their existence. Strangely enough, however, they seem to be doing extremely well even without them. Apparently, they have found a number of alternative methods to cure common illnesses, and so while we administer the Pepper-up Potion, Muggles take a pill of ... aspirin, I believe it is called. Its effects are not immediate, of course, but the final result is impressive none the less."

This time, Elizabeth didn't even fight the urge to smile. After all, it wasn't often that she saw Snape speak so ... spontaneously and eagerly, almost to the point of reminding her of a little boy who had just been given a new toy and was now excitedly informing his mother about all the cool stuff it can do. And so, just to prolong that rare moment, she encouraged him to tell her more about what he had learned from her father, and listened fondly to what she had known ever since she was five, but what, coming from Snape, sounded exciting and new.

Fascinating though the subject was, however, it was by no means inexhaustible, and so it happened that after some time Snape eventually returned to his unpacking, while Elizabeth was once again left to ponder over her unfortunate debate with her mother.

"You don't know how glad I am that you and Dad seem to be getting along so well," she declared eventually. "If only my mother-"

She didn't really consider it a good idea to enlighten Snape on what exactly her mother had told her in the kitchen, but for some inexplainable reason she felt the need to arouse his interest to the point where he would ask about it himself. After all, if he all but pried the answer out of her, then her conscience would be relatively clean, and she wouldn't feel so bad if Snape didn't take the information well.

Fortunately for her, though, her intention failed miserably, for while Snape did indeed react to her words, the question he asked was somewhat different from what she had expected.

"Speaking of your mother," he said acridly, "I would be extremely grateful if you did not attempt to break my ribs with your elbow the next time we come to face her. A less painful means of non-verbal communication would have been equally effective ... or, better said, equally _ineffective_, seeing as it was absolutely impossible for me to determine what exactly it was that you wished me to do."

"I only wanted you to ask my mother to call you by your first name," said Elizabeth with a sigh. "It would've made a good impression on her, and maybe she would have even thought somewhat differently of you afterwards." She threw Snape a thoughtful look. "Then again, maybe you could still fix it. If you ask her-"

"I shall do no such thing," said Snape flatly. "I absolutely refuse to be on a first name basis with a person whom I barely know and whom I do not wish to acquaint myself with any further than I have to. I am not going to go out of my way merely to make an impression. Pleasantries, as you should well know by now, is something I have never believed in, not even with the few people whose appreciation I cared for. Your mother, purely for your information, does not fall into that category."

"So who does?" inquired Elizabeth, even though she didn't really care; she simply needed a reason to keep the conversation going so that Snape wouldn't notice how his words had upset her. She had so hoped that he and her parents would get along, she really had, but it seemed that in the case of her mother she would simply have to keep dreaming.

"Surely it is not so difficult to work out?" said Snape, who obviously wasn't too eager to give away such a personal piece of information, but nevertheless felt that it would undoubtedly do less harm if he didn't have to say it himself.

"Isn't it?" asked Elizabeth doubtfully. Then again, now that she thought about it, maybe it really wouldn't be so hard... "Well, all right then, I'll give it a try," she declared finally. "You just tell me if I'm right or wrong, OK? So, let me see ... your parents, while they were still alive?"

Snape replied with a small nod.

Encouraged, Elizabeth went on. "Dumbledore?"

Another nod.

"McGonagall?"

"Partly."

"Um, Voldemort?"

Snape looked thoughtful. "In a sense, yes," he admitted finally.

Elizabeth sighed; she was slowly running out of ideas. "Lucius Malfoy?"

Snape shook his head. "I only needed him to trust me. Otherwise I did not care what the man thought of me in the least."

Having decided that Draco would probably earn a similar answer, Elizabeth found that she was stuck. Who else did Snape respect so much that he would want their appreciation?

"How many more people are there?" she asked finally. "Do I know them at all?"

"Two," replied Snape without hesitation. "And yes, you know them both."

"Personally?"

"Yes."

"Oh, so ... are they, or were they, teachers at Hogwarts?" asked Elizabeth hopefully, although besides Dumbledore and McGonagall she could currently think of no other suitable candidates.

"Ye-es."

Now, what was that slight hesitation supposed to mean? Could it possibly be...

Elizabeth's lips spread into a wicked smile as it finally hit her. "My Grandma?" she drawled, suddenly forgetting all about her problems with her mother and beginning to concentrate fully on her questioning, which was becoming more and more enjoyable by the minute.

Looking as though he expected his confirmation to bring him anything but good, Snape eventually gave a reluctant nod.

Elizabeth's smile immediately grew even wider, and before she knew what she was doing, she once again found herself asking about Snape's supposed feelings for her elderly relative.

Snape, naturally, didn't seem to find the question pleasing at all. "I seem to recall you making a certain promise once," he said sternly, "involving the fact that you shall refrain from asking me personal questions of this kind in the future. It must have slipped your mind, however."

Elizabeth sighed; she should have known that Snape would dig out something like that. On the other hand, it once again proved just how superb his memory really was, which Elizabeth simply couldn't help but admire, even if said memory was often used to her disadvantage. Which, if nothing else, meant that she had already discovered the best way to react in such a situation.

"No, actually, I _do_ remember that promise," she admitted unwillingly. "I just thought that things have changed since then. Well, it seems I was wrong."

Apparently, she had managed to strike home with these words, because, for a short moment before he recovered, Snape looked truly hurt. Then, after an unbelievably long time during which he seemed to contemplate how to react, he finally said: "May I ask why you would find the subject of my feelings towards your grandmother so extremely fascinating to begin with?"

"I'm just curious," replied Elizabeth, wondering whether Snape's question meant that he was actually considering giving in at last. "Once I find out, I won't have any reason to mention it ever again," she added suggestively, just in case.

Once again, Snape remained silent for quite some time before he finally spoke, although what exactly he had been pondering over for so long Elizabeth could only guess.

"I ... admired her," he enounced, all of a sudden, looking as though the mere words made him sick.

Elizabeth, however, was not exactly satisfied, mainly because – in Snape's case, at least – the word 'admire' could mean practically anything, from something closely approaching love to simple affection. Unfortunately, though, Snape, who had meanwhile turned his attention back to his suitcase, looked anything but prepared to clarify his statement, which inevitably meant that Elizabeth, whether she wanted to or not, would have to settle merely for the scarce information that he had conceded to give her, seeing as it was as clear as daylight that any further questioning would only lead to another bout of temporary deafness. Consequently, she reluctantly decided to return to the previous subject, determined to at least find out the name of the one remaining person who was lucky enough to have made it onto Snape's list of individuals whose appreciation he strived for. However, it didn't take long before she realized that mere determination obviously wouldn't be enough in this case, for no matter how much she strained her mind, the identity of the aforementioned person still seemed to be escaping her.

"Severus," she announced finally, doing her best not to sound as though she was whining, "I can't think of anyone."

"Think harder, then," said Snape unconcernedly, transferring the last of his clothes into the wardrobe before getting to his feet and turning around to watch the Ravenclaw with a rather annoying air of impatience and expectancy.

Perhaps it was this that had finally set Elizabeth's mind on the right track, she didn't really know, but the fact was that she was suddenly quite certain as to who the mysterious person was. Honestly, it was so easy that she marvelled at her own stupidity for not having figured it out earlier.

"It's ... is it me?" she asked meekly, rapidly losing the confidence she possessed only a moment ago when she noticed the way Snape was looking at her. Was it contempt she saw in his eyes? Had she perhaps been too conceited to think that he would want her appreciation? No, surely not. Upon closer inspection, it looked more as if Snape was simply trying to determine just how much damage he would suffer were he to openly admit that, in reality, Elizabeth was somewhat more important to him than he was usually letting on.

At last, however, he seemed to have reached some sort of conclusion, for his expression changed somewhat, almost as if he were bracing himself against what was to come, whereupon – though not before allowing a few more seconds to pass – he gave a barely recognizable nod.

Elizabeth felt a wave of emotion rush over her. True, were it another person, she would have probably brushed the preceding reaction aside as something of no particular importance, but with Snape, who usually guarded his thoughts and feelings like a precious jewel, a confession of this nature meant almost as much to her as a declaration of love. She therefore rewarded Snape with a grateful smile, then, on a sudden impulse, slid off the bed and went over to give him an affectionate hug. Snape, for once, didn't seem as surprised by this unexpected act as he usually was, and even, for the first time ever, began to stroke Elizabeth's hair; tentatively at first, almost as if he were afraid that she would pull away, but getting more confident by the second.

Wondering whether she hadn't, by some strange accident, been transferred to heaven, Elizabeth couldn't help but wish for this rare and wonderful moment to last if not forever, then at least a couple more minutes longer, and she also hoped that Snape, encouraged by the experience, would resort to such endearments a little more often from now on. After all, he really _could_ have got somewhat used to being involved in a relationship by now.

Her mind filled with such thoughts, Elizabeth eventually loosened her hold a little and tilted her head upwards, inviting Snape to kiss her. Which he surely would have done, had it not been for Elizabeth's mother, who was unlucky enough to walk into the room at the very moment their lips touched.

The effect – from the perspective of an outside observer, at least – was truly comical. With a great start, Snape, as though stung by some invisible insect, instantly drew back, his normally pale cheeks suddenly as pink as Elizabeth's Valentine card. Elizabeth, meanwhile, remained standing where she was, feeling a mixture of anger, disappointment and embarrassement overcome her as she slowly shifted her gaze from Snape to her unfortunate mother, who was now hovering uncertainly near the doorway, obviously at a loss of what attitide to adopt.

As was always the case with her, however, she recovered much more quickly than one would have expected, and soon launched into a declamation that, oddly enough, comprised an apology as well as a hint of an accusation.

"Forgive me for disturbing you," she prattled, "but I was looking for Elizabeth, and since I didn't find her in her room, I thought I'd check whether she hadn't come here. I would've knocked, of course, but since the door was wide open, I thought... Well, never mind; what I've come to tell you, Elizabeth, is that you've got some late Christmas presents downstairs, which we all thought you might like to come and unwrap. You, Mr Snape, can come too, of course," she added hastily, shooting Snape an uneasy look.

Elizabeth unconsciously followed her example, whereupon she nodded and, with a very meaningful look, told her mother that if she gave them a minute or two, they would be right with her. Her mother, fortunately, took the hint and left the room without further ado, leaving Elizabeth to spend the aforementioned minute or two (or ten) trying to convince Snape that what had just happened was really no big deal, and that, if anything, the incident would only lead her mother to realize that he definitely wasn't as much of a cold fish as she had originally thought him to be. Unfortunately, though, this didn't seem to calm Snape any more than saying that he would be thrown out of the house, and so by the time he and Elizabeth arrived in the Woodhouse's living room for the present unwrapping, he was still looking as though somebody was torturing him. Consequently, Elizabeth found that she couldn't enjoy her presents nearly as much as she usually did, which eventually led her to, for the second time that day, leave the room at the earliest possible opportunity in order to seek out the relative privacy of the first-floor.

&&&

To Elizabeth's extreme disconcertion and disappointment, Snape didn't seem to be able to forget the whole episode with her mother so easily, and so while Mrs Woodhouse had indeed fulfilled Elizabeth's expectations and began to think of Snape in a more favourable manner, Snape himself was now so afraid of repeating the experience from the first day of his stay that, unless Mr and Mrs Woodhouse were at work, he rarely allowed Elizabeth to come any closer to him than within the infamous respectful distance. This, of course, bothered Elizabeth greatly (and not only because she feared that, with such an attitude, Snape could once again stir up her mother's previous doubts), but since there wasn't much that she could do about it, she eventually decided to make the best of their stay even as it was. And not without success, either: now that she had her Apparition certificate, she and Snape could be found roaming the streets of London almost every day; trying out various restaurants, theatres, and even cinemas, which Snape, despite his proclamations about movie-watching being an even greater waste of time than listening to music, obviously found deeply fascinating. Then again, it soon became clear that as far as the Muggle world was concerned, Snape was fascinated almost constantly. There was rarely a moment during which he wouldn't be demanding a detailed explanation of how this or that worked, how it was used, or what it was made of, something which Elizabeth, who was by no means an expert in electrical appliances, naturally found somewhat frustrating. In fact, she often found herself thinking of Snape as an overly curious child, whose questions had somehow come to be so elaborate and complicated that his parents were no longer able to answer them. This, however, definitely didn't mean that Snape had learnt absolutely nothing during the time he had spent with the Woodhouses. Quite on the contrary: by the end of his stay he knew how to operate the television, VCR, DVD player, telephone, microwave, toaster, kettle, and – despite his initial complaints about the Marilyn Manson posters in Elizabeth's room making him feel somewhat uncomfortable, as the singer allegedly bore a close resemblance to Voldemort – even Elizabeth's computer, where he had, during the one time the Ravenclaw had left him at home and gone off to the supermarket (seeing as Snape, like most men, took an instant dislike to shopping of any kind, and was therefore much happier to stay by himself for a while than endure the torture again), easily beaten her high score in Minesweeper. All in all, he was an extremely fast learner, and Elizabeth often wondered whether it was even possible for him to stumble across something that, once given the appropriate training, he wouldn't actually manage. And so, still under the thumb of this impression of Snape's genius, she eventually decided to put the man through one last test – by casually suggesting that, as they had now reached the final day of their stay, they didn't go to a restaurant for once, but instead stayed at home and prepared some lunch themselves.

Snape's reaction to this plan, however, wasn't nearly as positive as it could have been. "Well, as long as you feel up to the task, I am certainly not going to stop you," he stated, preparing to leave the kitchen with the obvious intention of tranferring to the living room to watch TV.

"Well, _actually_, I rather hoped that you would stay to help me," said Elizabeth in her sweetest voice. "After all, it's the last morning we're spending at this house, so I thought that cooking a meal together would be the perfect way to ... it'll be fun, don't worry," she added hastily, noticing Snape's expression growing more and more sceptical. Needless to say, this last remark only caused the scepticism to turn into disbelief, accompanied by a small trace of suspicion. Not to mention one of Snape's typical nipping retorts.

"How you can possibly regard cooking as fun completely exceeds my imagination," he declared haughtily. "Personally I have always considered the preparation of meals as something that ought to be left to the house-elves to take care of."

Elizabeth smirked, unable to stop herself from imagining what Hermione would do to Snape if she heard this, but she quickly pushed all such thoughts out of her mind and said: "Yes, but, as you might have noticed, Muggles don't _have_ house-elves. Therefore, they find cooking their own meals perfectly natural."

"Which still doesn't explain why we cannot simply go to a restaurant," muttered Snape, in a last attempt to elude the undignified activity that Elizabeth had thought up for him.

The blond witch, however, merely smiled; after all, Snape was – unconsciously, of course – playing right into her hands. "Simply because restaurants are full of people," she replied readily, "whereas _I_ want to be with you _alone_."

"I see," said Snape after a while of thoughtful silence, whereupon he asked, in a tone of fake disgust tinged with indifference: "So, what exactly is it that you are so anxious to poison us with?"

Elizabeth shot him an equally fake look of grievance. "Have some faith in my cooking, won't you?" she scolded playfully, so happy that Snape didn't put up as big a struggle before eventually giving in as he usually did that she couldn't quite find it in herself to feel offended by what he had said. "And, purely for your information, I'm planning to make vegetable soup, roast chicken and potatoes, and, if we have time, also some fruit salad."

Strangely enough, this time Snape exceptionally chose to leave Elizabeth's announcement uncommented; instead he resorted to giving off an aura of quiet suffering mingled with impatience, obviously hoping for Elizabeth to eventually take pity on him and let him be.

To his great misfortune, however, Elizabeth remained firm. "Now, I think I'll start with the chicken, while you can cut up the vegetables into the soup," she announced cheerfully, and promptly dove into the fridge, from which she presently emerged with two carrots, a kohlrabi, and some broccoli. These, along with a knife and a cutting board, she ceremoniously handed to Snape, and, with a warning look, told him to kindly desist from using magic, seeing as the mess it sometimes made often took longer to clean than the whole lunch took to make.

Contrary to Elizabeth's expectations, Snape took these news surprisingly calmly, and set to work without another word. Shrugging, Elizabeth chose to do the same, and moved over to the fridge to take the chicken out of the freezer. She had barely removed it from its bag and put it in the microwave to defrost, however, when Snape proclaimed that he had finished, and asked for some bowl to tip the cut-up vegetables into.

Elizabeth spun around in disbelief; surely it was impossible for somebody to cut up the vegetables as fast as that? Unless...

"I thought I said something about not using magic," she muttered dissaprovingly, eyeing the almost identical pieces of carrot and kohlrabi and the neat chunks of broccoli while handing Snape a microwave dish to put the vegetables into.

"I know you did," said Snape smugly, taking the microwave dish and using his knife to tip in the imposing mixture lying on the cutting board.

Elizabeth frowned. "You mean you ... you cut all this up by hand?" she asked uncertainly, gesturing vaguely towards the microwave dish.

"I certainly did," replied Snape, not without a certain degree of proudness. "Perhaps it had never occurred to you, but the procedure is very similar to that of cutting up potion ingredients, which, as I accentuated several times during our private lessons last year, I also prefer to handle without magic."

"Oh yes, I think you did say something about magic never being as accurate as a well-trained hand," agreed Elizabeth, somewhat disappointed by the fact that her plan to finally discover an activity that Snape would find out of his power had, once again, failed, but at the same time pleased that, after finding out that he was good at it, the Potions master no longer seemed to find cooking as contemptible as he did only a couple of minutes ago. Smiling contentedly, Elizabeth immediately decided to put this convenience to some use. "Now," she said, handing Snape a potato peeler and several potatoes, "since you seem to be so good with vegetables, could I ask you to be so kind as to peel these potatoes for me?"

Snape didn't seem to have the slightest problem with this request (although he did choose to use the knife again instead of the unfamiliar peeler), and by the time lunch was finished and ready to be served, he had even come to prepare the whole of the fruit salad. Perhaps this was why, in the end, he couldn't find a single negative thing to say about any of the courses (he wouldn't really want to criticize his own work, now, would he?), although Elizabeth preferred to think that the real reason for that was that the meal really wasn't as bad as he had originally feared it to be. And when, after polishing off his second bowl of fruit salad, he eventually declared that perhaps the two of them would live to see the next day after all, it was no longer possible to convince her to think otherwise.

From then on, however, things didn't go nearly as smoothly; and the disaster was completed at dinner when Mrs Woodhouse, who had, undoubtedly due to Snape's unusually distanced behaviour towards her daughter, recently come to confirm Elizabeth's worst fears and reverted to her previous (and not exactly positive) opinion of her surly 'boyfriend', suddenly put down her fork and, with a speculative look in Snape's direction, said: "Pardon me for asking, Mr Snape, but there is something that, as a mother, I feel I have the right to know: do you plan to marry our daughter?"

Snape, it seemed, was caught completely unprepared by this question; for a second or two he just regarded Mrs Woodhouse in a rather shocked and uncomprehending way, before, at last, he shifted his puzzled gaze to Elizabeth, obviously hoping that she would help him out.

Looking into his pleading eyes, Elizabeth couldn't help but feel sorry for him; after all, it wasn't often that he looked so helpless, despite there being something decidedly cute about him when he did. And so, although she would have given pretty much anything to hear what he would have to say on the subject of marriage, she eventually tore her eyes away from him and, giving her mother a withering look, said: "Isn't it a bit early to discuss something like that? We've only been together for five months, you know."

"Just the right time to start talking about marriage," said Mrs Woodhouse relentlessly. "Your father and I-"

"Mum, just because _you_ got yourself pregnant right at the beginning of your relationship doesn't mean _I_ have to follow your example and get married at the age of eighteen as well," said Elizabeth fiercely.

Obviously, this seemed to have hurt Mrs Woodhouse quite a lot, for not only did she decide to drop the debate at that exact moment, but she also remained unusually quiet for all the rest of her daughter's stay, which, fortunately, lasted only until the following morning, when Elizabeth and Snape were finally leaving the villa for the peace and quiet of Snape's mansion.

Despite the cold goodbye her mother had put her off with, however, Elizabeth was by no means planning to apologize; after all, it wasn't she who had started the dispute by trying to embarrass both herself and Snape – a fact her mother would hopefully come to realize once she was given enough time to think it over in peace.

&&&

The Apparition of both Elizabeth and himself to the unkempt driveway leading to his house was a trivial matter for somebody as experienced as Snape, although Elizabeth was only too happy to have the transfer over and done with. Apparition was a dangerous process as it was, but when trying to Apparate another person besides yourself, the probability of something going wrong naturally increased even more.

As soon as she recovered her balance and finally raised her eyes towards the majestic building towering before her, however, Elizabeth instantly forgot all about the potential dangers of collective travelling, and simply soaked up every single detail of the enormous house with a barely audible 'wow'. Coincidentally, 'wow' just about described it: a three-storey colossus, with small, dark windows, walls covered with ivy, turrets and chimneys that the architect seemed to have placed rather randomly, and a huge front door with a silver knocker in the shape of a serpent. All in all, a rather ominous sight, although Elizabeth thought that the mansion's gloomy appearance matched its enigmatic owner only too well.

"Are you quite certain you don't want to change your mind about staying here?" the man in question asked eventually, bringing Elizabeth from her musings back to reality.

"No, why?" she replied carelessly. "I think the house is cool."

"From the outside, perhaps," said Snape, eyeing the house critically, "but otherwise it is in appalling condition. Most of the rooms have not been used since my father's death."

"Oh, but you can tell the house-elf to do a little cleaning up, can't you?" said Elizabeth matter-of-factly. "That is, supposing you have one, although I must admit I'd be greatly surprised if you didn't."

"Then I shall spare you such a surprise," said Snape, looking rather amused, "for, unless he had passed away since my last visit, I do indeed have a house-elf attending to the house."

Elizabeth responded with a smile, after which she casually asked whether it wouldn't perhaps be a good idea to actually go inside, rather than spend the rest of their day standing on the doorstep. Snape, it seemed, wasn't exactly pleased by this suggestion (after all, he appeared to have more than one reason for keeping well clear of his residence, not to mention showing it off to visitors), but eventually he drew his wand and, muttering an incantation that unlocked the front door, briskly entered the house. Elizabeth eagerly followed, and soon found herself in a huge entrance hall, with a grand staircase located right in front of her and dark corridors whose end she could not see stretching on both sides. Once, perhaps, it must have all been very handsome indeed, but now everything lay covered with a thick layer of dust, and every convenient place seemed to be taken up by a fantastically large cobweb.

This was about as far as Elizabeth got with the study of her surroundings, however, for at that very moment there was a loud _crack_, and both she and Snape were somewhat startled by the appearance of an old, squalid-looking house-elf, who immediately launched into a hurried and rather affected welcome speech.

"Master Snape!" he exclaimed, bowing ceremoniously. "What a pleasure to have you here once again! And with a young lady, too; Marvin cannot express just how happy he is for his master! Shall he go and prepare one of the guest bedrooms for his lovely companion? Or-"

"Yes, a guest bedroom will indeed be needed, thank you, Marvin," said Snape, rather more quickly than was usual for him. The elf, however, didn't seem to notice this, and, with another bow and another _crack_, vanished out of sight.

Elizabeth, on the other hand, observed Snape's hasty reply with keen interest, and eventually decided that the time had come for a little private talk.

"Severus," she began uncertainly, only too aware that what she was about to suggest would probably sound incredibly daring, and therefore have only a small chance of success; however, she also knew that merely sitting with one's arms folded had never brought anyone any closer to their goal than if they didn't have any goal at all, and so it was with Jane's favourite saying ('Nothing ventured, nothing gained') on her mind that she gradually forced herself to continue. "Don't you perhaps think it slightly inconvenient to have the house-elf clean up another bedroom, just because of me? Wouldn't it be decidedly easier if I just slept with you?"

In compliance with her expectations, Snape looked positively taken aback by this question, and his expression had gone through several changes, ranging from shock and incomprehension to thoughtfulness and temptation, before he finally recovered enough to answer.

"I think that would hardly be appropriate, Elizabeth," he said stiffly, all signs of temptation now irrevocably gone.

"Oh? What makes you think so?" asked Elizabeth, feeling somewhat disappointed by Snape's negative response but at the same time fully aware that, in a matter such as this one, it would be wholly unwise to push the man into anything he obviously wasn't yet prepared to do. However, that still didn't prevent her from trying to find out the reason behind this unfortunate unwillingness, nor did it stop her from giving the whole bed idea up completely. "We've already fallen asleep on your sofa several times, so it's not like we would be doing anything new."

Snape, however, seemed to find the sofa and the bed about as similar as the areas of Russia and Vatican. "I ... would rather wait," he proclaimed stubbornly, though with the air of one trying to suppress some strong emotion.

"Oh, but it's not like we have to _do_ anything!" exclaimed Elizabeth, doing her best to sound as though the thought of doing anything else besides sleeping had never even entered her mind. "Unless you decide otherwise, we can just go straight to sleep."

Unfortunately, though, Snape had already managed to fully regain his sharp wit, and as such was in no humour to allow himself to be ridiculed any further. "Tell me, Elizabeth," he said softly, "do you really expect me to believe that, or are you merely testing me? Not that it matters, of course, for in either case I shall make sure to deny you the pleasure of succeeding."

"Then there's really no point in answering, is there?" retorted Elizabeth, not at all happy with the unfortunate turn their little talk had suddenly taken.

"No, I suppose not," said Snape unconcernedly. "Now, I suggest we desist from leading this highly unavailing conversation in the middle of the entrance hall, and instead apply ourselves to something a little more productive. Personally I suggest we go and unpack, after which I could give you a small tour of the grounds."

And with these words, he promptly started for the huge staircase Elizabeth had been admiring earlier, but he had barely taken three steps when-

"No, wait!"

Perceiving a hint of despair in his girlfriend's voice, Snape stopped dead in his tracks and slowly turned around, his expression a picture of smugness. Elizabeth, however, didn't let this discourage her; she had a sudden idea and she was determined to try it out. Well, all right, and she also didn't want to let Snape get the better of her once again. And so, with an air of perfect innocence, she gave him an uncomprehending look and asked: "What exactly did you mean when you inquired whether I expected you to believe that after getting into bed we could just go straight to sleep?"

"I believe you know perfectly well what I meant," said Snape quietly, his smugness slowly giving way to irritation. Not that one could blame him, of course: he had already considered the subject successfully closed, and yet Elizabeth chose to go and start digging into it all over again. And not only that; it sure looked as though she meant to make a proper job of it, too.

"Well, not exactly," she continued doggedly. "I swear I wouldn't even touch you if you didn't explicitly ask me to, so where's the problem?"

Snape, however, seemed to have decided not to provide her with the pleasure of answering for once, and settled instead for withering her with a look that clearly said: 'Are you really so dumb, or are you just faking it?'

Unfortunately, though, this proved to be just enough to verify Elizabeth's vague suspicions. 'Well, well, well,' she thought with satisfaction, 'now we're finally getting somewhere. If I understand it correctly, it's not me you don't trust, it's yourself. How paradoxical can you get? The ever-so-composed Severus Snape, afraid of losing control. No wonder you are not willing to admit it. Then again, would it really be such a catastrophe if you surrendered to your instincts, instead of blocking them with your mind? What _is_ your problem, anyway? That I'm still technically your student? That we're not married? That ... no, better leave it there.'

Having this and more occupying her mind, Elizabeth had to use all of her willpower not to state her thoughts out loud, seeing as she knew only too well that it would be of no use: not only would Snape never consent to answer her highly awkward questions, but it would also infinitely ruin her chances of realizing her earlier idea. And so, not without some regret, she eventually bit her tongue as far as Snape's motives for not wanting to sleep with her were concerned, and instead suggested that while he might not want her in bed in her human form, he could at least allow her to sleep with him in her cat form.

As could be expected, however, Snape's first reaction to this suggestion wasn't exactly enthusiastic. "That is the most insane idea I have ever heard from you, Elizabeth," he declared, looking as though he had trouble believing his ears, "and that is certainly saying something."

"I just want to be with you," said Elizabeth timidly. "After all, this house is so big and scary; do you know how unpleasant being all on one's own in the dark could get?"

"Yes, and I believe there are demons under the bed, too," said Snape sarcastically, but something in his eyes told Elizabeth that maybe he had meant his words a little more seriously than he was letting on. After all, didn't he once indirectly admit that he didn't like visiting his house because it reminded him of his unhappy childhood? Couldn't it perhaps be that he needed her company at night more than she needed his? Elizabeth didn't know, but the fact was that from here on it was only a matter of time before she managed to convince him to agree with her Animagus suggestion. And so it happened that when, at last, they went to sleep that night, Elizabeth could be counted among one of the happiest cats in the world.

&&&

Starting with the very day of their arrival, the short time Elizabeth and Snape had come to spend at the manor could easily be considered as one of the best times they had ever had. Not a moment passed when they wouldn't be doing something enjoyable, not an hour went by without them sharing at least one passionate kiss, and so it was really no wonder that they often wished for the days to last forever. Not that they weren't together at night, too, seeing as Elizabeth had naturally ensured that her furry occupation of Snape's bed became an absolute must, but that still wasn't enough to surpass the appeal of the activities they indulged themselves in during the day. Elizabeth's favourite was undeniably the Easter egg hunt she had prepared for Snape on Easter Monday, banning him from using _Accio_ and forcing him to search the enormous grounds belonging to the manor in Muggle fashion. Snape, on the other hand, seemed to find the most pleasure in organizing long walks either to the woods behind the manor or to the nearby lake (but no matter how much Elizabeth enticed him, he never found it in him to actually join her in the water, claiming that he had never been particularly fond of swimming, and was therefore quite happy to watch her from the shore; Elizabeth, however, had a nasty feeling that he was simply not a good swimmer, and, being the proud man that he was, didn't want to admit it), even though it soon became clear that most of the walks would end much sooner than he had originally intended. Not that Elizabeth was such a bad walker, no, far from it, but she seemed to possess an extra sense when it came to finding places where she and Snape could take a short rest, such as a particularly inviting-looking patch of grass, a fallen tree, or a sheltered area on the lake shore. Needless to say, the originally planned short rest then usually turned into a completely unplanned long rest, which the couple generally spent nestled together in pleasant silence, watching the countryside around them and occasionally leaning in for a tender kiss or caress, and which often ended long after sunset, when it was no longer possible to do anything except turn around and walk back home.

Another activity both Elizabeth and Snape looked forward to every day was, believe it or not, cooking, which Snape, despite his occasional complaints concerning the lack of the microwave oven in the wizarding world, had gradually come to enjoy so much that not only did he no longer request to eat at restaurants, but he even asked Marvin the house-elf to remove himself from the kitchen so that he could prepare all the meals himself. And since it was a well-known fact that whenever Snape did something, most of the time he did it well, it was really no surprise that, thanks to his creativity and skill, all his kitchen creations were absolutely delicious, and soon surpassed even the most complicated dishes contained in Elizabeth's own ample repertoire.

Besides wandering about the manor grounds and cooking, the couple also spent endless hours in Snape's well-supplied library: Snape refreshing his acquirements in the Defence Against the Dark Arts area, Elizabeth reading up on ancient potions.

Consequently, it was nowhere near unusual to find them there even on one sunny afternoon towards the end of their stay, though while Snape appeared to be wholly immersed in his book, Elizabeth had laid down her copy of _Potions in ancient Greece_ some time ago already, and was currently engaged in studying the face of her beloved with an expression of ultimate adoration. There was definitely something different about him that morning, she could swear on that, something that made him look even more sexy than usual, but though she had been straining her mind as to what it could possibly be for the past fifteen minutes, she still couldn't quite put her finger on it. The fact was, however, that he attracted her like a magnet, causing her to eventually get up from her seat, walk across the room until she was standing right behind his armchair, and, on a sudden, unexplainable impulse, start stroking his long, black, grease-free hair. Now, wait a minute ... did she really just think of Snape's hair as grease-free? From the way it felt under her hands it would certainly appear so, but not only that – it even _looked_ considerably more silky than usual, not to mention the fact that it emanated a very nice smell that Elizabeth seemed to find vaguely familiar... Well, there was only one way to make sure that she wasn't simply having visions, and that was...

"Severus?"

Snape, who had until then completely ignored Elizabeth's presence and kept solely to his book, finally tore his eyes away from the yellowed pages of his volume and looked up. "Yes?"

"You didn't, by any chance, wash your hair with that shampoo I gave you for Christmas, did you?"

For a short moment, Snape looked as though he wouldn't answer, but at last he lowered his eyes back to his book, muttering a reluctant "I did," as he did so.

Ignoring the fact that the words sounded as though they were poisoned, Elizabeth instantly felt a wave of enormous happiness wash over her, causing her lips to spread into a very idiot-like smile. Not that she cared, of course, because all that mattered to her at that particular moment was the fact that, for once, Snape seemed to have broken his resolution, swallowed his pride _and_ done something that was deeply uncharacteristic of him, all for one simple reason – to please her. No wonder she was feeling so light-headed, and, were it possible, she would have surely found herself floating several feet above the ground as well. As it was, however, she had to settle for simply crying "Oh, Severus!", before finally throwing her arms around the poor man's neck and giving him an affectionate kiss on the top of his head.

Snape, however, didn't seem to share her enthusiasm, and when Elizabeth hadn't released her strangling grip even after five minutes, he finally shut his book with a meaningful _snap_, and acidly remarked that his vision was getting blurry and that he was therefore finding it somewhat difficult to read.

Finally realizing that she was apparently not wanted, Elizabeth felt her happiness slowly ebb away. "I'm sorry," she muttered apologetically. "I'll just get back to my book, then, shall I?"

And she indeed made to return to her own armchair, when the sudden sound of Snape's voice caused her to somewhat alter her plans.

"You certainly shall not," he said firmly. "Now that you have so successfully diverted my attention from my book, you might as well come back here and enlighten me as to whatever it was that you were so unusually eager to share with me."

"But I didn't have anything to-" began Elizabeth, but Snape never let her finish, uncompromisingly pulling her down onto his lap and thus surprising her so much that she completely swallowed the rest of what she was going to say.

Snape, however, seemed to know exactly what she had meant to tell him. "Do not play smart with me, Elizabeth," he said softly, in a perfect immitation of the voice he usually reserved for interrogating his students. "I observed you staring at me for at least thirty minutes before you finally decided to grace me with your company; do you really think I will believe there was absolutely no reason behind it?"

Elizabeth stared at him in disbelief: how on earth could he know that she had been watching him when she could swear that he had been completely engrossed in his book the whole time? And what's more: how come he looked so absolutely certain of the fact that she still hadn't told him everything that had gone through her mind? He hadn't been using Legilimency on her, she was sure of that (not that he would ever dare, anyway), but considering all that he knew it almost looked as though he had. Then again, maybe she was just being stupid. Maybe all of his conclusions were nothing more than the result of logical thinking, which, as everyone knew, was pretty much his second nature. Yes, she was sure that was it.

Satisfied with her musings, Elizabeth was finally ready to answer, although she wasn't quite sure how Snape would react to what he was going to hear. Was it possible that he would think her sentimental and silly? Well, she would never know until she tried, and so, after taking one of Snape's hands into both of hers and staring at it thoughtfully for a while, she eventually raised her eyes and said: "Well, all right, I admit there really was something else going through my mind before I realized that you looked somewhat different today, and started pondering over what you could've possibly done to make it so." She gave Snape a mischievous look. "By the way, you really do look absolutely smashing when your hair is washed. Pity you can't have it like that all the time."

To somebody who didn't know him extremely well, Snape would have looked absolutely unmoved by this comment – perhaps even impatient for Elizabeth to get back to the original topic. After all, it had most likely taken quite a lot of self-denial for him to, firstly, do exactly what Elizabeth had wanted him to do (and thus put his self-esteem at stake), and, secondly, wash his hair with nothing more and nothing less than a lavender-scented Muggle shampoo for greasy hair (and thus ruin his self-esteem completely). Obviously, then, he wasn't exactly eager to be reminded of it (no matter how positive the reminder), which was probably the main reason why he had been acting so grumpily earlier.

All this, however, was only a part of what he felt (although, regrettably, the larger one), because when Elizabeth looked more closely, she could definitely distinguish something more in his apparently surly expression than just plain impatience: a sort of self-satisfaction, combined with pure happiness sequent upon the fact that the whole shampoo torture hadn't been endured in vain. After all, what could be more rewarding than seeing Elizabeth happy?

Ineffably pleased with what she had deciphered in Snape's eyes, the girl in question boldly resumed her account of her earlier musings. "Well, anyway, before I noticed that you looked even more gorgeous than usual," (at this point, Snape evidently forgot himself, and gave her a decidedly odd look) "I was thinking about how lucky I was to have met you. I can hardly imagine a life without you any more, but I know for sure that it would be horribly empty."

"Go on," said Snape, evidently moved by Elizabeth's words but doing his best to hide it.

"That's all," said Elizabeth, shrugging.

Snape gave her a pitiful look. "You may be a lot of things, Elizabeth," he said slowly, "but you are certainly not a good liar. Now, what else did you think about?"

Seeing that Snape would pry the answer out of her anyway, Elizabeth eventually resigned. "My mother's question," she peeped.

Snape's eyes instantly narrowed, although whether it was because the mention of Elizabeth's mother still upset him, or whether he simply had a hunch as to what Elizabeth was hinting at was hard to tell. The fact was, however, that he suddenly looked rather apprehensive, and that when he finally asked "Which question?", his voice carried a hint of suspicion.

Elizabeth took a deep breath. "The one about our marriage."

At variance with her expectations, Snape stayed completely silent this time, watching her intently with an expression that was nowhere near possible to read. Did that mean he wanted her to continue? Or did he, on the contrary, want her to drop the subject and never mention it again? Elizabeth didn't have a clue, but in the end her desire to have this particular discussion over and done with outweighed her fear of Snape's reaction and she blurted out: "I know it's far more usual for the man to bring this subject up, and I also know it's still a bit early to talk about it, but since my mother had mentioned it I simply couldn't stop thinking about it. Perhaps you are still not ready to take such a step, and I really wouldn't blame you, but if it were up to me, we could get married right this instant and I swear I would never come to regret it. I love you, Severus, and I am prepared to spend the rest of my life with you. And though you may choose to ignore what I've just said, I'll be happy with the mere fact that you'll store it somewhere at the back of your mind, and perhaps dig it out when you find the time has come for it to aid you in your decision whether to propose to me or not."

She finished, breathlessly awaiting Snape's reaction. She never got any, though; Snape merely looked at her for a while, so fixedly that it made her nervous, before, all of a sudden, he pushed her off his lap and left the room without a single word.

Elizabeth stared after him with a frown. What on earth was she supposed to think of _that_? Did the idea of marriage scare/anger Snape so much that he ran away from her, never intending to come back? Or did he just need some time out to think the matter over in peace? Elizabeth sincerely hoped that it was the latter, and that when, in an hour or two, Snape would come back from wherever he had disappeared to, he would sweep her into his arms, declare his undying love to her, and beg her to marry him. Or something like that, anyway.

To her growing disconcertion, however, Snape didn't return in an hour or two. Nor did he return by the time they usually went to bed, by which point Elizabeth was beginning to suspect that something was definitely amiss. Lying in Snape's bed, she shakily started counting off all the horrible things that could've possibly happened to him (deliberately ignoring the most obvious option of all, viz, that he had, indeed, left her), all the while listening to the faintest sound that could in any way resemble his approaching footsteps. Twice she thought she had heard his quick stride echoing through the hallway, but in both cases it seemed to be only her imagination playing tricks on her. And so, no longer able to keep herself awake, she eventually fell into a restless slumber, dreaming of her beloved getting eaten by an enormous wedding ring.

&&&

She woke up with a great start at the break of dawn, immediately looking beside her to see if Snape had, by any chance, returned while she was asleep, but his half of the bed looked exactly as it had in the evening, with no signs of anybody sleeping in it at any stage of the night.

Elizabeth felt the tears well up in her eyes. What was she to do now? Where _was_ Snape? Did he really leave her for good? Should she have bit her tongue yesterday, and never brought the subject of marriage up at all? Unable to supply an answer to any of these questions, she eventually decided that the wisest thing to do at present would be to go down to the kitchen and make herself some good (and preferably large) breakfast, seeing as she found it somewhat difficult to think while her stomach was growling with hunger. Or, even better, maybe she could ask the house-elf to prepare her something, as in her current state she would probably drop everything even before picking it up.

This was better said than done, however, because even twenty minutes after coming up with this plan she could still be found sitting on Snape's bed and gazing numbly into empty space, but at last she managed to get up, dress, and, after pulling herself together somewhat, even leave the bedroom in search of said house-elf. Fortunately, she didn't have to look long, for as soon as she called his name for the first time he appeared right in front of her with his characteristic _crack_, looking as shabby as ever and instantly inquiring what it was that miss needed.

"I would like some toast and coffee, please," said Elizabeth hollowly. "And maybe also some eggs and bacon," she added presently, realizing that she was really very hungry. "Bring it to the lounge when it's all done, OK?"

"Yes, miss," said Marvin courtly. "Anything else Marvin can do for you, miss?"

"Well, yes, actually," said Elizabeth impulsively, nearly slapping herself for not thinking of seeking the house-elf out earlier and asking: "Can you, by any chance, tell me where Severus has gone?"

Marvin, however, didn't even seem to know that Snape had left the house, causing Elizabeth to eventually release him and shuffle off to the lounge in even lower spirits than she had been in before.

Plopping down onto the sofa, she once again tried to analyze her present situation, but it was of no use: her mind simply refused to co-operate. Consequently, Elizabeth once again found herself staring absently in front of her, thinking about nothing and, at the same time, everything.

She didn't know how long she remained in this apathetic state, it could have been ten minutes as well as an hour, but the fact was that she nearly died of shock when Marvin the house-elf finally appeared in the room, carrying a tray containing her breakfast and a bouquet of wild flowers. All this he laid on the coffee table, and, after apologizing profusely for giving miss a scare, moved off to stand by the sofa, awaiting further orders.

Elizabeth, however, didn't pay him much attention; instead she stared at the flowers as if they were something she had never seen before, all the while trying to convince herself that she was completely crazy to think that they were from Snape. She had to make absolutely sure, however, and so, after eventually forcing herself to shift her gaze from the mysterious bouquet to the house-elf, she took a deep breath and, in a trembling voice, asked: "Marvin, who asked you to bring me these flowers?"

It seemed like an eternity before the elf finally spoke (though, in reality, it was probably only a second or two), but, to Elizabeth's extreme disappointment, his answer didn't turn out to be nearly as promising as it could have been. "No one, miss," he said. "Marvin found them in the kitchen when he went to make miss her breakfast. He thought miss might like them, and so he brought them. But he can go and throw them out if-"

"No, Marvin, it's all right; I'll keep them," said Elizabeth hastily. "And you're free to go now; I won't be needing anything else," she added, even more hastily, when she noticed the house-elf still hovering round, not showing any signs of leaving. Upon hearing this, however, he vanished almost instantly, leaving Elizabeth to study the unnerving flowers in peace.

Unfortunately, though, it soon became painfully clear that her inspection would most likely bring her no closer to solving the matter of their origin than she had been to begin with, causing her to eventually put them aside with a great sigh, and concentrate instead on something that was bound to bring her at least some sort of positive result, such as the consummation of her breakfast.

She had barely picked up her fork, however, when she noticed something lying on the tray that didn't seem to have any connection with the food whatsoever – a small black object that looked suspiciously like the box one would usually expect to find a ring in.

Elizabeth stared at it in bewilderment. Surely her eyes were betraying her? Surely it couldn't be what she thought (and hoped) it to be? Well, there was obviously only one way of finding out, and so, at last, she picked the box up with a trembling hand and, as if afraid of it exploding in her face, slowly opened it, almost dropping it as she did so. For it was indeed a ring that she found inside – a simple silver band with a snake coiled all the way round it, making it a perfect counterpart of the pendant she already owned.

"In case it does not fit you, I can always spell it to change its size," said a sudden, familiar voice from the doorway, startling Elizabeth so much that this time she really did drop both the ring and the box onto the floor, from where she didn't even bother to pick them up. At least not now, seeing as her attention was currently needed elsewhere.

"Severus!" she exclaimed. "You scared me! You ... I..." she trailed off, suddenly unsure of what to say next. She would have liked to tell Snape so many things, from how angry she was with him for leaving her without saying a word, to how much she missed him and how ineffably delighted she was to see him again, but in the end all that she managed to force out was a "Does this mean...?", before all the emotions that had accumulated inside her during the past several hours finally caught up with her, causing her eyes to fill with tears and her voice to crack.

Unfortunately, though, Snape had interpreted her reaction somewhat differently. Crossing the room in several quick strides, he sat down next to her on the sofa, and, after a while of thoughtful silence and in a voice full of suppressed emotion, said: "I cannot force you, of course. If you have any doubts about this, I suggest you refuse. Although from what I understood yesterday, you seemed to be fairly certain... Well, perhaps you have simply changed your mind since then," he finished curtly, his voice now betraying a mixture of accusation and pain.

Now, this was too much even for Elizabeth, who finally decided to put an end to this whole misunderstanding and quickly step in. "No!" she cried, ignoring the fact that her voice was still thick with tears. "How could you even _think_ such a thing? I would never change my mind like that, not unless you gave me an extremely good reason to. So, naturally, I _do_ accept your offer, and will be honoured to become your wife."

Snape, however, still didn't seem to be entirely convinced. "Are you quite certain of what you are saying?" he asked doubtfully, regarding Elizabeth's tear-stained cheeks with a clearly distinguishable question mark in his eyes.

"Of course I am!" retorted Elizabeth, desperate to make Snape believe her. "Do you really think I would lie to you about a thing like this? And if it's the tears you're worried about – have you never heard about tears of happiness?"

"Indeed. Though, as far as I can see, your tears of happiness seem to bear a suspicious resemblance to hysteria."

Reluctantly admitting that Snape had a point, Elizabeth eventually closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Breathe in, breathe out... "OK, I'm calm now," she announced finally, willing her voice to sound firm. "It's just that I was so worried about you leaving so suddenly ... I didn't know what to think about it ... I was afraid that something had happened to you ... I even suspected that you might have left me for good..."

"And I would have thought you had more confidence in me than that," said Snape casually, though it was obvious that in reality he was feeling quite hurt.

Sensing his reproach, Elizabeth had to use all of her willpower not to start crying again. "Oh, I know it was wrong of me to think so unfairly of you," she said ashamedly, "and I apologize for it, but I couldn't help it, I was so stressed... Still, was it really necessary to leave without a single word? If you'd only _said_ something-"

"-then there would have been no surprise," finished Snape dully, evidently beginning to wonder whether the whole 'surprise' idea hadn't perhaps been a bit of a mistake.

"Yes, but still... No, let's not talk about it any more. Just promise me not to ever leave me like that again, all right?"

Snape smirked. "I shall do my best."

Ignoring the hint of sarcasm in his voice, Elizabeth simply smiled at him, after which it was only a matter of time before her lips found his, involving them in an activity that most certainly didn't include talking. It worked like magic, and in a moment or two Elizabeth could remember almost nothing of her previous distress, consequently forgiving Snape even the things he had never done. And to give him even more proof that she really wasn't kidding him when she insisted that she would be delighted to marry him, she decided to top the whole kiss with a question which she hoped to put a definite end to all of Snape's speculations about the idea of marriage being just a temporary whim for her, and to convince him once and for all that she really did take the entire matter most seriously.

"So, do you think we could get married right after I graduate?"

A/N: Sorry, sorry sorry, once again it took me incredibly long to update, but I had a really bad month – stress at school, depression, no motivation to write, no time to write ... well, you get the point. At least the chapter is my longest one yet, so I hope that makes up for the long wait at least a little. Anyway, one more chapter to go, but I have no idea when I'll have time to write that, seeing as I have to devote every single minute to school now. But I'll get it done sometime, don't worry; I really don't plan to abandon the fic one chapter before the end. Just bear with me, please.

Tessajalynn-cilory: I'm sad too that there are only 2 chapters (well, now it's only one, actually) to go, but at least I'll finally get a bit of free time when I finish, because this fic is an incredible time eater. Anyway, I'm glad you liked my last chapter, and I hope you'll enjoy this one too!

The Evil Cup of Tea: I'm good at combining different emotions into one chapter, you say? Well, I suppose that's true (and even more so for this chapter than for the last one), probably because the chapters are so long (this one's around 16,000 words, I think!). If you had your chapters this long, I reckon you wouldn't have a problem with combining emotions, either. Oh yes, Minesweeper is a terribly addictive game, but, as JKR says on her website, it's still better than smoking. Anyway, I don't think I even think about my fic while playing it any more, as I'm so obsessed with getting a high score that it requires my full concentration. I want to beat JKR! But she recently updated her high score to 99 seconds in Expert, so I don't think I stand a chance. I'm currently on 103 seconds; what about you? I replaced my monitor as soon as I finished my part time job, so I haven't been killing my eyes for about 4 months now. Go new monitor! And, for some reason, it was extremely cheap, too. Well, unfortunately I've got even less time for writing than I had before (stupid school), but don't worry, I'll definitely finish that last chapter sometime. I can't believe there's only one to go! Anyway, thank you for being so wonderfully patient with me, I hope this new chapter will be reward enough. Looking forward to hearing from you again soon!

Fury's Grace: Well, I probably didn't update as soon as you would've liked, so I apologize, but if you're still with me I hope the length of this chapter will make up for it somewhat. I'm flattered that you think so highly of my fic, and thank you for finding the time to let me know. Hopefully I'll hear from you again sometime!

Shini the Graver: Oh, I don't think I could write Snape any other way; I don't want him to become all sweet like he does in so many other fics. He did lighten up a little in this chapter, though, so I hope that will satisfy you somewhat. Anyway, thank you very much for reviewing, and I hope to hear from you again!

Sarvus Snape: Well, I don't want to know what Snape would do to me for the lateness of this chapter, but, as you said, better late than never. At least you can be sure that I won't abandon the fic. Anyway, thank you for reviewing, and I hope you liked the new chapter (if you still haven't given up on me, that is :)

Ciara Scarborough: Oh, thank you sooo much for the beautiful review; it always warms my heart when I read something like that. I'm so happy that you like my story so much, and that you think my English is good (though personally I doubt it, especially when I have Morphology at school, and get all the tenses wrong – like today). As for the way I write Snape (whom we would probably have an enormous fight over if he were real :) – I'm doing what I can to make him as close to his book self as I can, but once you make him involved in a romance, I don't think it's entirely possible. I had a long chat with my friend about this, and eventually we came to the conclusion that he's simply not written for romance in JKR's books, and that if you do want him involved in a relationship, you have to use your imagination and make his character a bit more three-dimensional. Which, of course, is not a bad thing, but it inevitably makes him a tiny bit different from the way JKR presents him in the books. Well, I hope that was understandable; I'm not very good at explaining stuff. Anyway, it really pleases me to find as avid a reader as you obviously are (hope you didn't get into trouble with your parents :), so thank you once again for the review, I hope you enjoyed the new chapter, and I also hope to hear from you again! P.S. Glad you like my responses to reviewers; I don't have many, so I want to thank them all accordingly. And I really enjoy chatting with most of them, too!

Artistic Angel85: I'm so glad you're still with me, and I hope the wait for this new chapter wasn't too long for you. Thank you for reviewing; I hope to hear from you again soon!

FireValkyrie: Oh, I too would like to work at a cinema (if that's what blockbuster is, anyway), but instead I had to work in a supermarket (it wasn't too bad, though), and at the end of the week I'll be part of an election committee, which I'm kind of looking forward to, as it will be a nice, easy job. Anyway, I definitely don't think you're a freak because of your dream; on the contrary, I find it fascinating. I'm kind of interested in magic and stuff like that, so I know there really are people who have dreams like that, although I've never had any myself. So, can you remember if the thing you read in your dream had even the same wording as my chapter, or was it just the same plot? That would be interesting to know, I think. Well, I'm glad you're still enjoying the fic so much; I'm really doing my best not to slip and make Snape too nice, although it's been getting harder and harder lately. After all, the relationship does have to progress a bit, so he can't stay exactly the same all the way through. Anyway, yes, I too read every fic about Snape I stumble upon, even the really crap ones, but it's always nice to find some fic where Snape's IC – it makes it that much more believable. As for my &&& signs, that was a necessity, actually, because didn't take the asterisks any more, but I'm glad you like the change all the same. The reviews – well, I'm happy with what I have. I would probably have a hell lot more if my fic was a SS/HG one, but since I chose to write an original character, I have to bear the consequences. Sorry your fic was deleted, by the way. What's wrong with a 'you' format? Is there any logical reason why it shouldn't be allowed? He he, yes, I'm also going to buy PoA when it comes out on DVD, even though I've already got it on CD and even though I know there will be no deleted scenes with Snape in them. But who cares, I'll get my Grandma to give it to me for Christmas, so at least I won't spend my money for it. Anyway, I went to have a look at potterpuppetpals, and I think I saw all the episodes there are, but I liked Bothering Snape and Trouble at Hogwarts the best. They're both so funny, so much so that even my brother, who normally doesn't like HP at all, loves to watch them at least once a day. So thanks for the recommendation! Also, thank you very much for the whole review, it really was the longest one I ever got! Anyway, hope you liked the new update, and I'm looking forward to hearing from you again!


	30. The wedding

Chapter 30

The wedding

It wouldn't have been like Snape to agree with something too readily, even if it was something Elizabeth felt sure he wanted as much as she did, and so it didn't really surprise her any more that it took another quarter of an hour, during which she had to come up with an endless amount of arguments about why she wanted the wedding to take place so inappropriately early, before he finally consented to at least thinking the matter over, but only under the condition that they would, straight upon their return to Hogwarts, seek out Dumbledore to see what _his_ opinion of the whole marriage-after-graduation idea would be. Now, had the circumstances been a little different, and had Elizabeth been talking to someone other than Snape, she would have perhaps been somewhat dissapointed not to have received a more enthusiastic reaction from the man who had just been asked to plan something as pleasant as his own wedding, but, as it was, the response she got was as much as she could ask for.

&&&

The last couple of days spent at the Snape mansion are (when, of course, one omits the fact that at one point Elizabeth had disappeared to London for almost half a day to haunt the jewellery shops in search of an engagement ring for Snape) not worth mentioning. Snape seemed to be nervous because of the wedding, and as such proved to be poor company. Elizabeth already knew better than to force him to talk when he was in no mood for it, and so they spent most of their time in silence, reading or listening to their MP3 players. Yes, indeed, even Snape had eventually discovered the numerous advantages of listening to music, and from then on his Beatles CD's had been frequently in use. Learning from the episode with the shampoo, Elizabeth didn't dare comment it, but her knowing smile said it all.

At last, however, it was time to leave, and though Elizabeth would previously have laughed at anyone with the guts to suggest that she would actually be happy to do so, this was indeed the case. Not only was it obvious that Snape would never find peace until Dumbledore had been consulted, but even the Ravenclaw herself was now beginning to anticipate what the old man would have to say (though she was quite certain that it could be nothing negative), and was therefore eager to get to Hogwarts as soon as possible.

In the end, however, Dumbledore's opinion of the matter turned out to be no great surprise (at least to Elizabeth) – he was all for it, and even, without anybody asking him to, put himself in charge of the organization of whole event. It would have to take place at Hogwarts, of course, he would ask the Minister for Magic to perform the wedding act, he would invite-

But Snape obviously wasn't willing to hear who Dumbledore had chosen to invite to his own wedding. "Headmaster, I must protest," he cut in firmly. "I absolutely refuse to have all of Hogwarts, and more, goggle at me when ... well, simply speaking, what I had in mind was a quiet event, attended only by Elizabeth's family, yourself, and perhaps Professor McGonagall..."

Dumbledore, however, wasn't to be stopped, no matter how much Snape and Elizabeth (who, frankly, didn't really care whether the whole of Hogwarts witnessed her wedding or not, as long as she and Snape got married, but since Snape would evidently suffer with too many people around, she thought it better to support him in his cause) argued, which eventually led the two of them to give up the fight and, especially in Snape's case, leave the Headmaster's office in much lower spirits than they had entered it.

"Don't be angry with him," pleaded Elizabeth, in a feeble attempt to justify Dumbledore's unwelcome initiative, as soon as they reached the corridor outside. "Can't you see that he's obviously bored? Ever since Voldemort had died, he has nothing much left to do, and so he seeks every opportunity to find himself an occupation."

"Well, perhaps he could try to find himself an occupation elsewhere, and leave the wedding preparations to those whom the entire matter concerns the most," said Snape bitterly, obviously not in the mood to forgive the poor, bored Headmaster any time soon.

"Yes," sighed Elizabeth, "but since that's about as likely to happen as Hufflepuff winning the House Championship, we just have to accept it, and make the most of it as it is." She gave Snape a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, we'll survive."

Snape's expression clearly conveyed that he highly doubted it.

&&&

Neither Snape, nor Elizabeth had much time to brood over the monstrosity that Dumbledore was so eagerly planning for them, however, for their main worry at the moment was the much awaited last Quidditch match of the season – Slytherin versus Ravenclaw – which was to be played in the middle of May. Both teams were still in the running for the Quidditch Cup, and both desperately wanted to win, though Ravenclaw had to beat Slytherin by at least 100 points, otherwise the Cup would go to Gryffindor. That's why Elizabeth now spent most of her days either in the classroom or on the Quidditch pitch, fighting her way through Jane's brutal drills and listening to her forever changing strategies of beating the Slytherin team, which left her almost no time for anything else. The only exception was, naturally, Snape, whom she still continued to visit every evening and with whom she was currently leading endless debates concerning the upcoming Quidditch match. Soon a healthy rivalry had developed between the two of them, causing them both to take immense pleasure in either accentuating their rival team's shortcomings, or feeding one another false information about their own team's strategy in the match.

And so, with the two of them being kept busy in such a manner, time seemed to pass incredibly fast for them, leaving them both in a state of mild shock when the middle of May suddenly arrived without any noticeable warning, and with it the day of the decisive match. Neither of them let their true feelings show, however, and they both walked out of the castle looking as smug as if they had won the Quidditch Cup already, Elizabeth heading for the changing rooms, Snape, whose willingness to make an exception in his usual attire and actually wear green robes instead of his famous black ones clearly showed just how important he thought the occasion, for the Slytherin part of the stands, where he immediately blended with the swirling mass of silver of green. But while the Head of Slytherin was able to keep up his mask for the whole of the match, Elizabeth dropped hers as soon as she entered the changing room, seeing as now was her last chance to solve the dilemma that had been bothering her ever since she first found out the details of the possible match outcomes. What if Ravenclaw won the Quidditch Cup? How would Snape take it? Or worse, what if Ravenclaw won the match, but Gryffindor took the Cup? Not that she didn't wish Hermione, Neville, and all the rest of McGonagall's house all the best, but if she knew for a fact that Ravenclaw wouldn't win the Quidditch Cup anyway, wouldn't it be better to just let Slytherin win the match, simply to make Snape happy? She would just have to play a little worse than usual, and simply hope that Slytherin would take advantage of it...

She never got any further in these treacherous thoughts, however, for at that moment Jane climbed onto one of the changing room benches and began her usual pre-match pep talk, forcing Elizabeth to abandon her musings and concentrate instead on what was being said.

"This is it," Jane was just saying in an unusually low voice, almost as if the words were sacred. "At last a chance for Ravenclaw to claim the Quidditch Cup. And we _will_ do it, I'm sure. We've been training hard all year, sacrificing our afternoons, our weekends... All this must show somewhere, am I right?" Six heads nodded vigorously. "So please, girls, don't let the team down. You know the tactics for this match. Do your best." At this point, Jane looked straight at Elizabeth, almost as if she knew what had been going through her mind earlier. Elizabeth lowered her gaze. Jane, looking satisfied, turned her attention back to her team. "Go out there and _fight_!" she shouted out, and thus finishing her speech, she jumped off the bench, grabbed her broomstick and briskly led the way out of the changing room.

Elizabeth walked out of the door last, feeling as though she deserved a huge slap. How could she have even _thought_ of giving Slytherin a chance to win? She would have been betraying her whole team, for god's sake! And all this for a man who most probably wouldn't even thank her for it. Perhaps he would even be angry with her, because he would know that his team's victory wasn't completely deserved. No, this would definitely not do. She would play her best, as always, and if Ravenclaw won, and Snape was unable to accept it, then bad for him. She would simply have to teach him how to lose.

In such spirits, Elizabeth finally reached the Quidditch pitch, instantly casting a confident look into the Slytherin stands, where Snape sat regarding her with an equally smug expression.

'Look as smug as you want ... for now,' she thought with a nasty smile as she climbed onto her broomstick and got ready to take off. 'For I doubt you'll still have the mind to wear that expression when the match is over.'

Shortly after this, the aforementioned match was underway. Bludgers were flying left and right, and Elizabeth was sending them at the Slytherin team as if her life depended on it. She was definitely playing the best Quidditch of her short career. Perhaps she just hadn't been sufficiently motivated before? Not really feeling like pondering over it at the moment, however, she swiftly sent another Bludger at one of the Slytherin players, who immediately dropped the Quaffle he was carrying right into the hands of the Ravenclaw Chaser who was flying underneath.

"And ... Ravenclaw scores!" called the commentator, a small but extremely loud boy from Gryffindor, only a few seconds later. "Ravenclaw leads Slytherin fifty to twenty!"

'That's not good enough,' thought Elizabeth anxiously. 'We still need to score at least two more goals before we can let our Seeker do the job.' And, as if to add emphasis to her thoughts, she immediately hit one of the Bludgers coming towards her so hard that it nearly knocked the Slytherin Keeper off his broom, causing him to completely miss the Quaffle that flew through one of the hoops amidst a huge wave of cheering and clapping coming from the Ravenclaw stands.

"Another goal for Ravenclaw!" yelled the commentator ecstatically. "They now lead Slytherin sixty to twenty!"

"All right, one more," Elizabeth muttered to herself, desperately searching for a loose Bludger to cause sufficient damage with. But there was really no need to, for at that moment Jane had managed to aim her own Bludger so well that it hit the Quaffle, which was just being passed between two Slytherin Chasers, in mid-air, changing its direction and sending it flying towards the Slytherin hoops. Still, the Slytherin Keeper would have probably been quick enough to block it, had it not been for a quickwitted Ravenclaw Chaser who caught it at the last second and readily threw it through the hoop which the Keeper had just left. And, to top it all off, at almost exactly the same time the Ravenclaw Seeker caught the Golden Snitch, ensuring Ravenclaw both the match and the Quidditch Cup.

The celebrations that followed this memorable victory were spectacular, involving lots of food, drink and general happiness, and so it was only well after dinner that Elizabeth finally managed to sneak out of the common room to pay Snape her usual evening visit. She was, naturally, not entirely comfortable about doing so, as she had absolutely no idea how Snape would receive her (for all she knew, he might even think that she had only come to laugh at him), but she had to face him sooner or later, and personally she preferred the former. What good would putting it off do? She would only prolong the uncertainty, which, if it were to last too long, would most likely drive her crazy.

And so, with an unsteady hand and a heavy heart, she eventually knocked on the familiar dungeon door, which immediately opened with an ominous _creak_, and entered, briefly wondering how Snape always knew it was her who was visiting him, and not some dangerous enemy that had somehow managed to sneak into the Hogwarts castle undetected. 'It must be some spell or other,' she decided as she took a tense look around the room, instantly spotting Snape sitting on the sofa and silently regarding her in a very unnerving fashion. Now, what on earth was that supposed to mean? And, more importantly, what should she say? Should she act as if nothing had happened? Or should she perhaps attempt some sort of an apology – that could never hurt...

"Sorry I'm so late," she began, "it's just that we were ... um..." Oh yes, great start. Keep going.

"Celebrating?" supplied Snape smoothly, raising an eyebrow.

Elizabeth looked at her feet. "Well ... yes, kind of. It was only natural considering the..." she took a deep breath and looked Snape right in the eye "...the circumstances. Look, I'm really sorry that your team lost, but that's just the way it goes. We won this time, you'll win next time. No big deal."

"Oh, no doubt we shall win next time," smirked Snape. "After all, Miss Wells and yourself will have graduated by then."

Elizabeth threw him a confused look. Did he just pay her and Jane a compliment? Did that mean...

"Does that mean you're not angry with us?" she asked incredulously, taking an uncertain step towards him.

Snape endowed her with a bitter smile. "Did you really think me as narrow-minded as that? I am flattered."

Elizabeth sank down next to him onto the sofa, looking crestfallen. "Yes ... no ... I don't know. You react really oddly sometimes."

Instead of looking affronted, as Elizabeth thought he would, Snape just looked disappointed, almost as if he felt sorry that Elizabeth didn't yet understand him as well as he thought she did. "Everything I do has a reason behind it, believe it or not," he declared finally. "Do you really think I would have given you a book about Quidditch for Christmas if I could not come to terms with your team beating my own?"

Elizabeth felt like a complete fool. "No," she muttered, staring at her hands, "I don't. It was really stupid of me not to have remembered that. Gods, I don't even want to imagine what you must think of me right now."

"I think it is time for you to go to bed," stated Snape, getting to his feet and giving Elizabeth such an uncompromising look that the Ravenclaw found herself rising from the sofa and letting herself be steered to the door without a single word of protest. However, when she realized that Snape was about to dismiss her with only a curt "Good night", she simply couldn't keep quiet any longer, and, in a hurt tone, inquired after their usual good night kiss.

"I am not entirely sure you deserve it," said Snape flatly, though some sixth sense told Elizabeth that he didn't quite mean it, that he was only trying to get back at her for her earlier doubts of his sportsmanship. Bearing this in mind, she somehow found the strength to continue.

"Oh no, please don't torture me like that," she pleaded, feeling the tears well up in her eyes. Suddenly it didn't matter what Snape's motives for not kissing her good night were – all she knew was that he _did_ refuse to kiss her, and she couldn't bear it. "I know I should never have thought of you so foolishly, but I can't take it back now – all I can do is apologize, and promise to remember this episode whenever I find myself doubting you in the future." She fixed Snape with a miserable gaze. "Now, is there any chance of your forgiving me? Please?"

Snape regarded her upturned face for a while, almost as if he were trying to look into her soul, before, at last, he took a step forward and placed a swift kiss on her parted lips.

"Good night," he said, softly yet categorically, resuming his original position and opening the door.

For a second or two Elizabeth remained looking at him as if she expected more to come, before finally whispering a resigned "Good night, Severus" and slipping into the corridor outside. Her last thought, before the door snapped shut behind her, was that Snape had somehow managed to forgive and punish her at the same time, considering that their good night kisses usually lasted quite a bit longer.

&&&

With no more Quidditch to take their minds off the rapidly approaching wedding (not to mention the even more unnerving task of announcing their relationship in front of the whole school), Elizabeth and Snape now hardly thought about anything else than how they would possibly manage to get through it all without ending up in St Mungo's, despite Snape's unsuccessful attempts to pretend that none of this had anything to do with him. After all, he couldn't quite go into a jewellery shop to help Elizabeth pick out the wedding rings without admitting to himself why he was actually doing it, nor could he very well lead endless debates with Dumbledore about whom he absolutely refused to invite to the wedding without realizing that the wedding was actually his own.

Elizabeth, on the other hand, was a different matter altogether. She would spend hours poring over various fashion magazines in an attempt to find herself the perfect wedding gown (after all, she couldn't look less than perfect at the wedding, could she?), she would disappear from Hogwarts for whole afternoons just to discuss some minor detail about her veil with her mother (who was more than happy to reconcile with her offspring as soon as the word 'marriage' reached her ears) ... not to mention that she now practically lived in Dumbledore's office, forever hunting the old man with new suggestions concerning the wedding ceremony and at the same time unobtrusively leading him to respect as many of Snape's wishes as her influence would allow. How, with such a busy schedule, she still managed to find the time to attend to her students, friends and, of course, Snape was a mystery, but the fact was that she did, and with considerable success. Not only did she finally manage to earn something very close to respect from the Slytherins (which, she hoped, didn't only result from her threats of a very difficult test at the end of the year if they didn't behave, cancelled end-of-year exams or not), but she was even able to keep Snape in a relatively serene state of mind, which, under the circumstances, was a heroic achievement indeed.

Sadly for her, however, this perfect state only lasted for a limited period of time, for as the graduation ceremony crept closer, even she gradually started losing her nerve, speak nothing of Snape, who all but flinched whenever someone mentioned the words 'graduation ceremony' or 'wedding' in his presence. Perhaps it was fortunate, then, that thanks to all the end-of-year commotion the first of these two events arrived much quicker than either of them had anticipated, because otherwise it wouldn't have taken long for them both to end up in the hospital wing with the worst case of a nervous breakdown Madam Pomfrey had ever seen.

As it was, however, it wasn't the infirmary where Elizabeth and Snape eventually found themselves sitting, but the High table, from where they perceived the happenings around them with somewhat clouded senses. The only time when Snape seemed to be paying full attention was when Dumbledore announced the results of the House Championship, which, to the surprise of all, exceptionally went to Slytherin this year, possibly because it was the only year when Harry Potter didn't have the chance to gain some last minute points thanks to his usual end-of-semester showdown with Voldemort.

As the whole of the Slytherin table erupted in cheers, Elizabeth couldn't help but glance over at Snape to check his reaction to these unexpected news, seeing as she knew only too well how much, after Slytherin's unfortunate failure in Quidditch, the victory of his own house meant to him. To her complete astonishment, however, Snape's expression seemed to be just as stony as it always was – he was clapping, yes, but apart from that the only thing that contrasted with his usual countenance was that he was wearing a slight smirk. But was it really so? Elizabeth looked more closely, and soon came to an interesting conclusion: that the smirk definitely wasn't anywhere near what it appeared to be, and that she was probably the only one to recognize it for what it was – a smile.

At that moment Snape looked at her, and she couldn't resist giving him a huge smile of her own, hoping to put into it all the pride and happiness that she currently felt for him. After all, who cared if anybody noticed? They would reveal their relationship in only a couple of minutes anyway...

As if Snape had read her thoughts, he eventually returned her smile, and though it still vaguely resembled a smirk, it was a smile none the less, one that warmed Elizabeth's heart and renewed her faltering courage to face what was to come.

And indeed it did come – after the few seventh-year students (Elizabeth, of course, included) who had not perished in the final battle had been presented their graduation certificates, and after Hermione, as the year's top student, had made a short, moving speech where she remembered the victims of the war and subsequently thanked everyone who was there to thank, Dumbledore finally stood up and, to a room that had gone completely quiet in anticipation of what he had to say, spoke thus:

"Yes, I am well aware that you are now all expecting me to give orders for our annual grand feast to begin, but before I do so, there is one more announcement to be made. However, as it is not for me to be the messenger of those undoubtedly happy news, I will now yield the floor to those whom the whole matter actually concerns. Severus, Elizabeth – if you please."

Giving a small start at the sound of her name, Elizabeth sent Snape a nervous glance, upon which they both stood up, Elizabeth feeling her knees wobble beneath her.

"Well," she began constrainedly, painfully aware that (unlike in class) all eyes were now on her, "there's not much to say. Just that Professor Snape and I are ... are getting married. You're all invited to the wedding, of course, which will take place in three days' time. And ... that's all, I suppose."

Slipping her small hand into Snape's as if to demonstrate that she really did harbour amorous feelings for her former Professor, and that their marriage therefore definitely wasn't in any way forced upon them, she took an uncertain look around to see the general reaction to her controversial announcement. Unsurprisingly, the Great Hall looked as though someone had dropped a bomb in its midst. Students were staring at her with their mouths wide open, disbelief written all over their faces. Professor McGonagall seemed to have choked on her tongue. Professor Flitwick nearly fell off his stool. Hagrid (who, to the delight of all, had been one of the first to try the new Soul Restoration Potion recently developed at St Mungo's with complete success, thereupon returning straight to Hogwarts to reclaim his old teaching post) looked as though he was about to cry. And then, just as Elizabeth and Snape resumed their seats, the whispering started. Elizabeth didn't really mean to pick up on what was actually being said, but then again nobody was really bothering to keep their voice down. And so she heard it all...

"_Snape_ is getting married? That Woodhouse must be completely out of her mind!"

"Such a greasy git, isn't he? Who on earth would want him?"

"Albus, is this ... cough ... true? Albus, how _long_ have you known?"

"Such a luvely pair 'ey ... sniff ... make!"

"It was about time he got laid, wasn't it? Maybe we'll actually see some improvement in him at last..."

Closing her eyes in disgust, Elizabeth thought she was going to be sick. Snape, on the other hand, seemed just about ready to endow all the saucy talkers with some very nasty curse. It was probably rather fortunate, therefore, that there was still one person in the Great Hall who hadn't yet lost all her common sense, and so when that particular person realized that the situation had perhaps got a little out of hand, she decided to solve the matter in a decidedly witty (yet simple) way – she stood up and began to clap. The effect was almost miraculous – the whispering instantly ceased, and instead people started to join in the clapping – first the teachers, then the individual houses, until the whole of the Great Hall was on its feet, making so much noise that Elizabeth's ears hurt. Still, she was naturally forever grateful to the iniciator of this entire clapping and cheering contest. Darling Hermione! Who knows what would have happened had it not been for her? As it was, however, the very relieved couple at the teachers' table could now successfully tick off the first of the two things on their 'to do' list, and fully concentrate on the other. The wedding.

&&&

"Hey, Elizabeth! Wake up! You're getting married today!" yelled Jane's enthusiastic voice a little too loudly considering that it was only half past six on a Sunday, while its owner shook Elizabeth firmly by the shoulders.

Elizabeth opened her eyes, trying to adjust to the bright light pouring in through the dormitory window. Was it really true? Was she really going to marry the man she loved more than life itself at last? The past three days had gone by in such a hurry that she hadn't even had the chance to stop and think about it properly. She had just mechanically gone on with the wedding preparations as if they concerned somebody else, and it was only now that she finally began to realize what exactly was going on. And to be honest, it made her feel as nervous as hell. But since she couldn't exactly skip her own wedding, she eventually brought herself to dress, give her hair a quick brush, and then obediently follow Jane down to breakfast, where she was soon joined not only by Snape, who looked as though he hadn't slept for at least a week, but also her parents and her grandmother, who had arrived by the Hogwarts Express the night before (seeing as Mrs Woodhouse had categorically refused to use any magical means of transport), and who were currently accommodated in a spare dormitory at the top of Ravenclaw Tower. Despite all this, however, Elizabeth simply couldn't afford to dawdle around for any longer than was strictly necessary, and so as soon as breakfast was over she instantly disappeared back to her dormitory, seeing as the wedding was to take place in just a little under four hours and she wanted to have a sufficient amount of time to get ready for it. Needless to say, she didn't stay alone for long, for only a couple of minutes later Hermione and Jane (her two bridesmaids) rushed in, insisting that they would help her, and another couple of minutes after that her mother and grandmother turned up, demanding exactly the same thing. Sighing, Elizabeth eventually allowed them all to stay, reasoning that their constant chatter would at least keep her sufficiently distracted, leaving her no opportunity for getting nervous. It was a good theory, no doubt about that, but in practice it didn't quite work out, for by the time the four enthusiastic females were done with her, her knees were shaking and her stomach felt as though it was floating on water together with the whole British Navy. Worst of all, however, was the fact that she couldn't quite explain why she was feeling so irrationally queasy. Shouldn't she be blissfully happy instead? What on earth was there to worry about? What could possibly go wrong? Nothing, of course, and yet the mere thought of the wedding ceremony made her stomach muscles tighten with fear. It must have somehow shown in her expression, too, for it didn't take long before even her companions noticed that something about her wasn't entirely right.

"What's wrong, Elizabeth?" Hermione inquired finally, regarding her friend with concern. "You look a little green..."

Elizabeth gave her an unconvincing smile. "I'm fine. Just a little nervous."

"Ah well, that's perfectly normal," declared her mother knowingly. "Every girl is nervous before her wedding, it's the natural reaction."

"Really?" asked Elizabeth feebly, not quite sure whether her mother was only trying to calm her down or whether her statement was actually true.

"Really," confirmed her mother resolutely. "Even I was nervous, if that makes you feel better."

"It does," smiled Elizabeth, cheering up a little. After all, there were only so many things that could put her mother out of countenance, and if her wedding had indeed been one of them, then Elizabeth was quite happy to accept her current state without further fuss. "Now, how do I look? Can I go like this? Do you think Severus will like my wedding gown?"

"You look like a princess," said Mrs Woodhouse proudly, looking at her daughter with admiration. And rightly so, for there certainly was a lot to admire. For one thing, it was the wedding gown itself, white as snow, sleeveless but otherwise not too revealing, very tight in the upper region but flowing freely in gentle folds of satin from the waist down. The veil, on the other hand, reminded vaguely of a spider's web, so light and transparent it was, almost to the point of giving off the impression that there was actually no veil at all. Then there was Elizabeth's hair, which, apart from the fringe on one side, was combed neatly back, and streaked with silver. Her make-up, too, was something one simply couldn't miss, seeing as the black eyeliner and silver eyeshadow she was wearing caused her eyes to light up like two great diamonds. And, to top it all off, she was to carry a lovely bouquet of lilies, tied with a white ribbon which gently underlined her look of snowy purity.

"I kind of get the feeling that winter has arrived," commented Jane, which just about summed it up.

And so, satisfied with the reassurances concerning her looks, Elizabeth finally let her four companions go and get fixed up themselves, while she carefully seated herself on the edge of her bed, wondering how on earth she would spend the time remaining until the ceremony without driving herself crazy with anxiety. Fortunately, Jane provided the answer to that soon enough, for the moment she returned from the bathroom to finish her beautifying process in front of her dresser mirror, she instantly drew Elizabeth into a pleasantly diverting conversation by asking, in a decidedly suggestive tone: "So, are you looking forward to the wedding night?"

Elizabeth, who had been meaning to broach this topic sooner or later anyway, either with Jane or with Hermione (but preferably with Jane, seeing as Hermione had once hinted that she and Neville, being both somewhat old-fashioned, hadn't ventured that far yet), pracatically jumped at the opportunity now that it had so conveniently presented itself.

"Well, of _course_ I am," she replied with a smile. "Though I must admit that I'm kind of nervous, too. What if something goes wrong? What if I won't know what to do?"

"Nonsense," said Jane dismissively. "You have enough theoretical information to begin with, and the rest will be taken care of by instinct. Just don't push it, be spontaneous."

Elizabeth looked thoughtful. "OK, I'll try," she said finally, "but what about Severus? Have you ever seen _him_ do anything spontaneously?"

"Um ... yell at Joshua and Jamie?" supplied Jane hesitantly. "Well, all right, I admit that Snape might prove to be a bit of a problem, but let's hope that he's experienced enough to get along even without spontaneity. Perhaps he'll make it up in another way."

"Perhaps," repeated Elizabeth absent-mindedly, once more looking thoughtful. It was only a minute or two later that she finally spoke again, asking the question that probably bothered her the most. "Jane ... does it hurt too much?"

Jane gave her a sympathetic look. "When you do it the first time? Well, I think it varies. Sometimes it hurts, sometimes it doesn't. For me it only hurt a bit, afterwards I was enjoying myself too much to feel any pain." She threw Elizabeth a reassuring smile. "But don't worry, you'll be fine. Just don't forget to use the Contraceptive Potion; I don't think I'm quite ready to become 'Auntie Jane' just yet."

Despite herself, Elizabeth, too, had to smile, and from then on the conversation took on a lighter turn, causing the time left until the wedding ceremony to run mercifully fast. Before Elizabeth knew it, it was time to go downstairs, which she, after a lot of encouragement from Jane, eventually did, meeting her father, who was to lead her to the altar, in a secluded chamber off the Entrance Hall.

"My, don't you look wonderful," proclaimed Mr Woodhouse as soon as he saw her, regarding her with awe.

"Well, thank you," said Elizabeth, trying to look pleased despite her wobbly knees, racing heart and a mind swirling with disconnected thoughts. Why couldn't it all just be over already?

"I simply cannot believe that my little girl is getting married," continued Mr Woodhouse sentimentally, obviously unaware of his daughter's distress. "It seems only yesterday when you first went to Hogwarts, and now ... now-"

"Now, all of a sudden, I'm getting married," supplied Elizabeth swiftly, desperate to end the conversation and simply get going. "It's weird, I know. But shouldn't we head off now? It's nearly time..."

"Not yet. I was told that somebody would be sent to inform us when everything's ready ... well, what did I say?"

There was a knock on the door, and Ernie Macmillan poked his head in. "It's ... almost time," he announced, nearly choking on the words as he took in the drastic change that Elizabeth had gone through. "You're supposed to wait behind the front door until the music starts, then it'll open by itself and you'll walk out, towards the altar. Good luck!"

Blurting the last few words out so fast that they were almost unintelligible, Ernie gave a curt nod and disappeared out of sight, leaving Elizabeth trembling even more than before.

'Oh my god, oh my god, so now it's finally here,' she thought discomposedly as she and her father linked arms and set off towards the front door. 'Calm down, Elizabeth, calm down, or you'll collapse even before you reach the altar.'

But nothing seemed to help, and by the time she came to a standstill in front of the heavy oak gates, she was barely standing. Even her father noticed it now.

"Are you all right, Elizabeth?" he asked concernedly, sounding very much like Hermione a couple of hours earlier. "You seem to be trembling."

Elizabeth threw him a suffering look. "I'm nervous," she sighed. "Incredibly nervous. I don't want to be, but I can't help it."

Looking at her with compassion, her father gave her a pat on the shoulder. "It'll be over soon, don't worry," he said soothingly. "Then you won't even remember-"

But he never finished his sentence, for at that moment the music (Mendelson's _Wedding March_) Ernie had mentioned started playing, and the massive castle gates swung open soon after, flooding the dark Entrance Hall with sunshine. Led firmly by her father, Elizabeth hesitantly stepped outside.

The first thing she saw were people. Lots and lots of people. They filled the entire front lawn, and for a fleeting moment Elizabeth had a strong suspicion that, without bothering to inform her, Dumbledore had somehow found the courage to invite the whole of the British wizarding community, and maybe even a fair amount of foreigners as well. But then she realized that her strained mind was most likely just exaggerating. The only people that were actually there, she told herself as she glided through the narrow aisle that said people had created, were the Hogwarts students (who had all gladly put off their summer holidays just so they could attend the wedding, seeing as it didn't happen every day that their Professors, and especially somebody like Snape, got married) and staff. And, of course, her family. And some Ministry officials. And some people she had never even seen before... Blasted Dumbledore! Oh, how she would make him pay! As soon as the ceremony was over, she would turn his precious beard green. Or pink. Or...

Thinking such revengeful thoughts, she had nearly reached the altar by the time she started paying full attention to her surroundings again, causing her heart to forget its function for a second or two as her eyes suddenly met Snape's. Christ, he looked good! Not only did he somehow manage to get rid of his sleepy countenance from earlier in the morning, but even his robes, though not much different from the ones he usually wore, made him look strangely noble, like the aristocrat that he was. And then, of course, there were his eyes. Yes, those beautiful obsidian eyes that could disclose Snape's emotions much better than any of his words ever could, those eyes that currently overflowed with a mixture of admiration, awe and suppressed anxiety. Could it really be true that the owner of those eyes would soon come to be called her husband?

From the look of it, it certainly could. Having finally come to a halt in front of the altar now, she could see that every tiny little detail seemed to indicate that a wedding ceremony was indeed about to take place. Minister Weasley was there, clad in a long white robe with golden hems, several other Ministry officials were there (probably to make sure that everything went through without a hitch), as were Dumbledore (deceitful bastard!) and Elizabeth's grandmother, the best man and best maid, each standing on one side of the altar and smiling from ear to ear. Feeling somewhat dizzy, Elizabeth began to wonder whether she hadn't accidentally stumbled into some kind of beautiful dream.

But it was all too real to be a dream. All those people, all those decorations, all that music ... surely she had never had such a vivid dream? Just then, however, the music stopped, causing everybody to fall silent and focus their attention on Mr Weasley, who constrainedly adjusted his robes, cleared his throat and began to speak. And, once again, his words were simply too real to be just a mere dream.

"We have all gathered here to witness what is undoubtedly one of the happiest moments of one's life..."

"Or the saddest," said a gruff-looking wizard from the Ministry, glancing at an obese and jewellery behung woman whom Elizabeth guessed to be his wife.

"Well, yes ... ahem..." Mr Weasley suddenly seemed quite lost, the man's comment having obviously unsettled him. "I'll just get to the point, shall I?" Looking nervously around, he cleared his throat again, and, in a grave tone, launched into the well known formula: "Severus Snape, do you agree to marry this woman, Elizabeth Woodhouse, to stand by her always, through the good times and the bad times, until death do you part?"

"I do," said Snape, loudly and clearly, while looking at his almost wife with so much love in his eyes that it brought her close to tears.

"And you, Elizabeth Woodhouse," continued Mr Weasley doggedly, obviously unaware of what had just passed between the two young people in front of him, "do you agree to marry this man, Severus Snape, to..."

Her mind practically swimming with emotions, Elizabeth didn't really hear the rest of the sentence; she simply whispered her "I do" at the right moment, and from then on she knew only one thing: that she was, at long last, Severus Snape's wife, and that it wasn't about to change. Her eyes suddenly filled with the tears that had been threatening to spill ever since Snape had looked at her a couple of minutes before, she was only vaguely aware of Snape putting a ring on her finger (she must have done the same, too, though later she had absolutely no recollection of it), and she didn't even summon the strength to protest when Snape merely brushed her lips after Mr Weasley had asked them to share their first newlywed kiss. It was only when the first people started to come and congratulate them that she finally pulled herself together enough to respond, seeing as it would have been decidedly impolite to receive her congratulations with a blank, tear-stained face.

"Congratulations, my child," beamed Dumbledore, one of the first well-wishers to tackle her. "May you live happily ever after."

"Thank you," breathed Elizabeth, so moved that she forgot all about her revenge for the extra wedding guests.

"Good luck, Elizabeth!" hollered her grandmother, the next congratulator in line. "I hope to see some grand-grandchildren soon!"

"Well ... we'll see," said Elizabeth dubiously, feeling herself blush. Fortunately, though, she didn't have a chance to linger on the subject for long, for her attention was soon captured by her mother, who successfully managed to clear her mind of all thoughts by pulling her into a bone-breaking hug.

"It's going to be lonely without you," she sniffed into her shoulder. "Come and visit us often, will you?"

"I will," Elizabeth promised, as she would promise almost anything as long as her mother let go of her. Mrs Woodhouse seemed satisfied, however, and, loosening her death grip and wiping her eyes, moved on to bestow her felicitation on Snape. Absently shaking the hand of some important-looking wizard from the Ministry, who had managed to squeeze his way into the line between her mother and father, Elizabeth couldn't help but overhear what was being said.

"Congratulations, Mr Snape," her mother began in her usual, business-like manner, but Snape quickly interrupted her.

"Severus, please," he said, causing both Elizabeth and her mother to look at him in amazement.

Unsurprisingly, though, Mrs Woodhouse took only an instant to recover. "Oh, well, in that case I must insist that you call me Irene," she stated determinedly, giving Snape a look that clearly excluded any form of protest. Snape looked resigned. "Anyway, what I really meant to say was that I hope you will both be very happy. My daughter deserves no less, after all."

Elizabeth threw her mother a withering look. How could she? How _dared_ she? Didn't she realize that had she, instead of that last sentence, said "Treat my daughter right ... or else", it would have had just about the same effect?

Gazing anxiously at Snape, Elizabeth saw that he had caught the underlying meaning of her mother's words only too well. In conflict with her expectations, however, he handled the situation absolutely superbly.

"Oh, that she undoubtedly does," he declared, glancing at his wife with unfeigned fondness. "You really need not worry, _Irene_, I shall take good care of her."

Turning her attention back to her own congratulators, namely her father, Elizabeth suppressed the urge to laugh. It was official – Snape was a genius. After all, who else could make a completely harmless phrase sound like the not-so-harmless statement 'It's really none of your concern, you silly meddling woman, but if it makes you feel better, no, I won't kill your daughter as soon as you let us out of your sight?' Even Mrs Woodhouse, who obviously didn't interpret Snape's words as harshly as Elizabeth had done, noticed that something about the way her son-in-law had answered her wasn't quite right, and she moved away without another word.

Elizabeth, on the other hand, couldn't have been prouder of Snape, and so as soon as the endless line of well-wishers finally exhausted itself, after which the wedding guests slowly started disappearing towards the castle for the much awaited wedding feast, she pulled him into an affectionate hug while profusely thanking him for dealing with her mother so well, and especially for finally allowing her to call him by his first name. To her utter disappointment, however, Snape gently pushed her away.

"Not here, Elizabeth," he hissed, glancing around as if to make sure that everybody was out of earshot. "It was quite enough that we were requested to kiss in public; we do not need to induce common nuisance by displaying our emotions still further. Not to mention that I have done nothing to deserve your gratitude."

Elizabeth looked at him in disbelief. "What? How come? You asked my mother to call you Severus, even though I know how much against the hair it is to you. What more could I ask for?"

"Oh, but how can you be so certain that I did if for you?" asked Snape maliciously. "Has it never occurred to you that I might have done it for a different reason entirely?"

"No, as a matter of fact it hasn't," snapped Elizabeth, unsuccessfully trying to decide whether Snape was just pulling her leg, or whether he was actually being serious. "So ... are you actually going to tell me what that reason was?"

With a slight smile playing on his lips, and most likely only to miff her, Snape regarded her for quite some time before he finally answered. "Perhaps I was merely tired of your mother calling me _Mr Snape_ at all times," he said, looking perfectly serious as he did so. "Eventually I came to the conclusion that even my given name was preferable to that."

Elizabeth looked at him thoughtfully for a second or two, then started laughing. "I always presumed you had a sense of humour, Severus," she giggled, feeling the last bits of the tension that had been plaguing her ever since she woke up that morning slip away, "but now I know for sure. Now come on, let's go and find something to eat. I'm starving!"

&&&

As could be expected, the wedding feast lasted long into the evening, and so it was only well after dark that Elizabeth and Snape finally said their goodbyes and, changing from their wedding garments into some more ordinary clothes and shrinking their luggage, Apparated to Snape's mansion to begin their honeymoon. It had been largely Elizabeth's decision to spend the first couple of weeks of their marriage just there, seeing as Snape would have clearly preferred some more distant and exotic location, like Hawaii, Australia or Zimbabwe, but since his wife had been fairly insistent on the subject, he was eventually forced to give in and accept the fact that Zimbabwe would have to wait until later. After all, as Elizabeth had said, it was right about time he definitely chased those demons from under his bed.

And so it happened that the couple once again found themselves standing in the spacious entrance hall, listening to the excited chatter of Marvin the house-elf, while nervously anticipating what exactly they would do once they were left alone.

"Congratulations again, master Snape!" Marvin was saying for about the hundredth time since they arrived, beaming like a light bulb. "Marvin is so, so happy! But Marvin will go now, he suspects that master and miss would like some time alone." And with a conspiratorial wink and his typical _crack_, he vanished without trace.

Elizabeth felt her stomach muscles tighten. "Well ... shall we go upstairs?" she suggested timidly, seeing as Snape seemed to have suddenly become rooted to the spot, not looking as though he would move any time soon.

He all but flinched at the sound of her voice. "I suppose so, yes," he said, a little too quickly, and, without as much as looking at her, reluctantly set off for the stairs. Elizabeth followed, feeling more and more nervous every second.

'Pull yourself together, girl,' she ordered herself firmly. 'It's what you've been looking forward to all along, isn't it? There's absolutely no need to panic, everything's under control, Snape will know what to do. Yes, Snape will take care of everything... But then again,' her heart suddenly skipped a beat as something occurred to her, 'why is he so nervous himself? Is it possible that ... oh god. Oh god, oh god. What now? Maybe if I had a little talk with him before the ... well ... before the_ act_, just to make sure... No, not maybe. Definitely.'

However, by the time they finally reached the privacy of Snape's bedroom, she had become strangely tongue-tied, and so it was only after they had been sitting on the opposite sides of Snape's bed for several minutes without speaking that she found the courage to begin.

"Severus, you ... will be careful, won't you?" she peeped, not really saying what she had meant to say, but it was a start none the less. "It's only my first time, you know."

Snape looked at her with haunted eyes. "I know, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth took a deep breath. "You ... you haven't done it before either, have you?" she blurted out. There. She had said it. Now let the hell begin.

To her great amazement, however, Snape seemed to have expected the question. Gazing at her for quite a while, as if to decide just how much the answer would cost him, and looking almost apologetic, he finally shook his head.

For some reason, Elizabeth didn't find herself surprised at all. Now that her prediction had been confirmed, she realized that, deep inside, she had probably known about Snape's 'condition' all along. She produced a weak smile. "Well, that's going to be interesting, then, isn't it?" she said wryly.

Looking somewhat relieved by her mild reaction, Snape gave a slight nod. "Interesting indeed."

And with one wave of his wand he put out all the old-fashioned gas-lamps on the wall, leaving the room bathed in only the light of the candleholder with three candles standing on the bedside table.

THE END

A/N: I can't believe it! After almost two years, I finished the story! What on earth am I going to do now? I'll have such an empty space in my heart where this story used to be...

Anyway, I really, really apologize to everyone for taking so incredibly long to update, and in advance I thank all those who will still come back and review (BTW, if you would like me to reply, just leave me your e-mail address, or at least a signed review, seeing as there will be no next chapter where I could include my responses as I used to have done). I don't blame anyone who gave up on me, though, I would've given up on myself too. But I had exams, then I went to Australia for a month, and now I have to work as well as go to school. It's hard to find some free time for writing these days... Still, thank you so much for all the reviews that have come during the past four months or so, I loved every one of them!

FireValkyrie: Oh my, what an epic! Thank you! But I'm afraid that this really is the last chapter. I might, sometime during the summer, write a little epilogue about what happened with Snape and Elizabeth in bed, but I won't put it on I could send it to you if you really want it, though :) Other than that, though, this fic is finished, I'm sorry. Perhaps I'll start writing a different one once I have more time – a romance between Snape and Luna Lovegood. Weird pairing, I know, but it could be fun. Anyway, that sure was weird about you dreaming about my fic. 'Wow' just about describes it, yeah. I still envy your photographic memory, though, even though you just remember word placement. I can't do even that. I think it's funny what you said about Elizabeth being more courageous than you are. That's why I like her too! I'm also shy around men, probably even more than you are. Currently I've got this crush on my English teacher, and he might even like me back, but I'd probably die if I had to make the first move. Why can't I be more like Elizabeth? Why! Anyway, that was really nice what that reviewer told you about pleasing the masses. I agree! I would feel so restricted if I had to write Hermione instead of Elizabeth! I was already restricted enough by writing Snape, but I couldn't do it without him, could I:) I'm not sure what JKR would say about my fic, but thank you for thinking that she would be pleased. I hope Snape was still IC in this last chapter, I kind of felt I lost the hang of it after not writing for so long. As for the last chapter, I'm really glad you liked the scene in Dumbledore's office, it was probably my favourite. I so enjoyed writing Dumbledore, it was so much fun when he made Elizabeth and Snape sweat. You spotted the 'Mr Snape' thing! That's so cool, I put it there intentionally :) I hope you like how I eventually resolved it in this chapter, too. I am flattered that you enjoyed reading the last chapter so much that even your sister heard you swearing. That must've been amusing :) Yeah, Minesweeper. I couldn't resist putting that in. I got rid of my addiction now, fortunately. Though I'm currently addicted to a different game, so I suppose there hasn't been much improvement. You don't know what a kohlrabi is? It's a kind of vegetable, sort of like a bigger raddish. Another word I found for it in the dictionary is turnip-cabbage. Does that help any? Oh, I thought the end of the last chapter when Snape went to get the ring was so predictable! It couldn't have ended any other way! Still, I'm glad I fooled you at least a little :) Anyway, once again thank you for the absolutely delightful review, and here, at last, is the update you've so been waiting for. If you haven't given up on me yet, please review for one last time! It would definitely make my day. Cheers!

Slim-345: I am so happy that you like my story so much, and I'm sorry that it took me so long to update. Because of that, I release you from my services, unless you really, really want to stay my slave :) Thanks for the review, and I hope you liked the new chapter!

Ciara Scarborough: You really think the last chapter was the best? I am not really happy with the ending, once I find the time I'll play around with it for a bit and hopefully improve it. But otherwise I like the chapter too, though it's probably not my favourite. Anyway, I am really glad you like my 3-D Snape, even though personally I think absolutely nothing can beat the book one. He's the only real one, after all :) But who knows, if he falls in love in book 7 just like everyone thinks he will, he might actually come close to the Snape I created. Yeah, I think I'll stop worrying about my tenses. I'll never master them, so what's the point of worrying? OMG, that was so flattering what you said about my becoming a famous writer, and about all the readers wanting to meet me. I don't think it'll ever happen, as I don't really plan to become a writer, but it sure is a nice image :) Anyway, it was a pleasure sharing my writing with you (I wouldn't be so sure about the talent, though :), and I too am sorry that this fic has come to an end, but what can I do? I might start a different one sometime when I have more time, I plan it to be a Snape/Luna Lovegood romance. But for now it's the end, and I'll really miss your reviews. I hope you enjoyed the new chapter, even though it took me so long to write, and I hope to hear from you for one last time!

SmartAlek: I'm glad you're enjoying my story so much, it's always nice to find a new dedicated reader. I wouldn't worry about the age difference, though, I fall in love with older guys all the time, so I don't really see anything strange in it. And don't forget that they're wizards, who live for two hundred years or so, so what's a twenty year age difference compared with that? At least you don't mind my crappy tenses, though, I'm really glad of that. They're my nightmare! Anyway, thank you so much for the review, and I hope you liked the last chapter!

Artistic Angel85: I'm really happy that you liked the previous chapter, I hope you enjoy this last one too. I might write another fic after this, but that will be god-knows-when, as I have practically no free time now. Anyway, thank you for reviewing, and it would be great to hear from you once more!

Verity Brown: I'm so, so sorry for not updating earlier; I suppose Ravenclaw must've lost about 1000 points by now. But it's done now, so if you're still with me, I hope you enjoy it. Good on you for reading all 29 chapters in one night, though, I don't even want to know when you got to bed :) I'm glad you think Snape was IC the whole way, I did my best. Hopefully I didn't mess it up now. Anyway, thank you so much for the lovely review, and it would be great to hear from you again (even though I don't deserve it).

Sarvus: I'm so glad you had fun reading the last chapter, so did you ever get to finish it? You never let me know. But anyway, the bit with Dumbledore was my favourite from the last chapter, it was so much fun to write. I was enjoying it as much as Dumbledore himself! Thank you for the review, and I hope you enjoy the last chapter!

Autumn: No, actually, I thought you were quite original. Nobody has summarized my story like that yet :) Thank you for that, and I really hope you send another review for this last chapter.

Leeza: Thank you, that was such a flattering review. So you really wouldn't have guessed that English isn't my first language? You should tell my teachers that :) I'm also glad that you think Snape's IC, that was my main goal all along, and the hardest one to achieve, too. As for sequels, I suppose I might write a short epilogue to this story sometime, describing what happened in bed, but I won't put that on :) I won't write the story from Snape's POV, though, that would be too hard. But I might write another story from his perspective – a Snape/Luna Lovegood romance. You'll have to wait for that, though, as I'm currently overloaded with work and school. Anyway, once again thank you for the review, and I'd be absolutely delighted if you could send another one for this last chapter. Cheers!

Avril: Sorry, this probably wasn't what you'd consider 'soon', but it's here, and I hope you like it. Thanks for reviewing!

Halle: Well, here, at last, is the last chapter; I hope you like it. I, too, am sad to see the story end, it had become a part of my life, but at least I'll have more free time now. And I might write another fic if I feel that I miss writing too much. Thanks for the review, and I hope to hear from you again!


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